


LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

C!/:t}i??X^;Cnp!jri3! ( |l ‘tya. 

Shelf oh, 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



/ 


\ 






\ 







THE INCOGNITO LIBRARY 


THE INCOGNITO LIBRARY. 


A series of small books by representative 
writers, whose names will for the present not 
be given. 

In this series will be included the authorized 
American editions of the future issues of Mr. 
Unwin’s “ Pseudonym Library,” which has 
won for itself a noteworthy prestige. 

32mo, limp cloth, each 50 cents. 

I. The Shen’s Pigtail, and other cues of 

Anglo-China Life, by Mr. M . 

II. Young Sam and Sabina, by the author 

of “ Gentleman Upcott’s Daughter.” 

These will be followed by 
The Hon. Stanbury and Others, by Two. 
Helen, by Vocs. 

Lesser’s Daughter, etc. 


t 


The Shen's Pigtail 


AND OTHER CUES OF ANGLO- 
CHINA LIFE 


BY 



MR. M 



G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 

NEW YORK LONDON 

27 West Twenty-third St. 24 Bedford St., Strand 

Ube IRnfcfcerbocker iprces 
1894 



Copyright, 1894 

BY 

G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 


Electrotyped, Printed and Bound by 

Ube TRmcfeerbocfcer press, IWcw Jt?orb 

G. P. Putnam’s Sons 


CONTENTS. 


# 


/ 

/ 

/ 

/ 


1. The Shen’s Pigtail 

2. A Little Chinese Party 

3. The General 

4. Office Men .... 

Q., The Cold Precise. 
Jack-in-the-box S. 

A Powerful Hypocrite. 

The Juggernaut of Promotion. 
Wang. 


/ 


5 - 


A Shooting Trip on the Grand 
Canal 



J.’s Last Horror 


PAGE 

I 

89 

113 

141 


I 9 I 

201 







THE SHEN’S PIGTAIL 



THE SHEN’S PIGTAIL 

I. 


T WO of us were out for a shoot- 
ing trip in the large and ele- 
gantly fitted native houseboat 
of Mr. Yang, who himself accom- 
panied us with two friends. Mr. 
Yang was a rich Chinaman, retired 
from a very lucrative business in the 
importation of opium ; and having 
visited Bombay, and spent many 
years in Hongkong, had strong pro- 
foreign proclivities, one of which 
took the strange form of a love of 
sport. The indulgence of this, it 
will be understood, as indeed of any 
other barbarian practice, was quite 
out of the question by himself ; but 
he would sometimes, as on this occa- 


3 


4 


tTb e Sbett's pigtail 


sion, invite a foreigner to make use 
of his boat, and stroll out in the early 
morning for a chance shot when and 
where there were few natives about ; 
and during the day he would occa- 
sionally stroll along behind us to en- 
joy the forbidden savagery by proxy. 
The boat was well stocked with the 
best champagne, which is another 
extravagance much affected by rich 
Chinese in the foreign trade. The 
cabin was excellently furnished in 
foreign style with hanging lamps, 
mirrors, velvet lounges, and a hand- 
some ormulu clock, a small group of 
Graces, and a few graceful Japanese 
bronzes. In the rack stood three 
ordinary doubled-barrelled twelve- 
bores, a sporting rifle of my compan- 
ion’s, Reed, and a very beautiful 
sixteen-bore repeater of American 
make, presented to Mr. Yang by 
some of the Hongkong foreign mer- 
chants whom he had been in the 
habit of entertaining up the Can- 
ton River as he did us now on the 
Yangtze ; while the opium pipe, 
lamp, and tray on the crimson velvet 


Gbe Sben’s pigtail 


5 


divan was a present from the Par- 
sees of the Bombay house, magnifi- 
cently encased in gold filagree-work, 
set with small garnets and amethysts. 
The other valuables in the boat con- 
sisted of our watches and chains, the 
silks of the Chinese, and some fifty 
dollars in Mexicans and cash. 

We were tied up at the foot of 
the little table-hill a few miles be- 
yond Yueh-ho on that continuation 
of the Grand Canal which joins the 
Yangtze and Shanghai ; and after 
an excellent day’s sport, of which 
fifteen brace of pheasants and two 
deer hanging in the stern bore wit- 
ness, had retired to rest, somnolent 
from fatigue and the excellent 
dinner, at which we had done jus- 
tice between us to half a dozen of 
the big bottles of champagne ; of 
which, however, it must be sug- 
gested that the boys, the cook, and 
the laodah, had not failed to take 
samples as each bottle was opened 
in the outer cabin. A bottle of 
sweet gin had been given to the 
crew — they would have smelt the 


6 


Gbe Sbett’s pigtail 


best Scotch with repugnance ; and 
they were now enjoying it with 
their pipes in the hold forward, 
completely battened down as usual, 
for the autumn nights were chilly, 
and a lusty Chinese coolie likes his 
kennel crowded and air-tight by 
preference. No watch was kept, it 
being quite unnecessary in these 
peaceful and secluded waters. The 
only habitation within two miles 
was the dilapidated temple on the 
bank with its solitary bonze, a little, 
shorn-pated, courteous old priest, 
whom he had invited on board to 
a glass of wine, and whom Mr. Yang 
had afterwards shown over the 
cabin, where he expressed a chuck- 
ling senile wonderment and feigned 
alarm at that deadly foreign thing, 
a double-barrelled gun, which hit 
birds flying, and which broke in 
two. Farther inland a few cottages 
were scattered here and there among 
the cotton-fields, from which could 
be heard the occasional yapping of 
dogs. Now and then the stillness 
of the autumn night was deliciously 


Gbe Sben's flMgtall 


7 


joined by the cries of geese over- 
head, the passage of snipe, or the 
murmur of migrating locusts. The 
movement of all boats is stopped at 
sunset. A mile above, at Sin-fung, 
and three miles below, at Yueh-ho, 
wooden Customs barriers are thrown 
across the canal at night. 

In the midst of this slumber we 
were aroused by feeling ourselves 
roughly handled. In fact, we were 
being bound hand and foot. Reed, 
my English companion, a strong 
man of remarkable promptness of 
action, at once broke free and struck 
his man down with a fist blow, in 
return for which he was felled with 
a hammer from behind and stabbed 
by his enraged assailant. Bound 
and helpless, we looked on, Reed of 
course insensible. The robbers, or 
pirates, assembled round the table, 
counted and packed up the watches, 
clothes, trinkets, the wine, and the 
dollars, while one of them unhinged 
the guns and put them in their 
respective cases with the ease of one 
accustomed to their use, and de- 


8 


Gbe Sben's pigtail 


parted. They were Chinese, with 
their pigtails curled round their 
heads, and wearing paper masks. 
There were five of them. We 
heard the jolting of the plank as 
they stepped ashore, and the grating 
of the gangway being pulled off 
after them. We then all began 
talking at once. 

After a quarter of an hour’s ex- 
citable exclamation, it became clear 
that we were absolutely helpless, 
and that everything of value in the 
boat had been carried off. We 
shouted to the crew, and we could 
hear sundry blows and thumps and 
muffled answers, but no one came. 
Making a virtue of necessity, we 
talked until we dozed off, waiting 
for the daylight. 

The first boat that passed, Mr. 
Yang thrust his head through a 
panel and called to them. They 
came on board and undid our fasten- 
ings. Then we found the explana- 
tion of the muffled sounds from the 
crew. They were screwed down. 
The planks were hastily prised up. 


Gbe Sben’s pigtail 


9 


On going ashore we were horrified 
to find the poor old priest lying 
foully murdered in his bed, and his 
face was slashed out of all recogni- 
tion, as if the act had been inspired 
by a savage vindictiveness. 

After making such inquiries in 
the neighbourhood as we could 
think of, and informing the local 
tipaos of the villages immediately 
above and below our position, and 
at Tantu, the mouth of the canal 
where it joins the Yangtze, we made 
all haste to return to Chinkiang, 
since the telegraph wire, which runs 
overhead all along the canal from 
Chinkiang to Shanghai (and not 
underground, as I have seen stated 
in a very accurate contemporary), 
has no transmitting offices at the 
riparian villages. Delayed by the 
heavy tide from the river, and the 
fall of the breeze, it was dusk before 
we got back to the city. Fortu- 
nately Chinese officials transact their 
business more by night than day ; 
Mr. Yang therefore decided to at 
once call on Yoo Laoveh, the Shen 


IO 


Gbe Sbett's flMcitatl 


of Chinkiang — that is to say, the 
constabulary, the superintendent of 
police, the chief detective, the inves- 
tigating magistrate, the jury, and 
the judge, all covered by a single 
hat, for the populous city of Chin- 
kiang and its environs for a radius 
of ten miles or more. 


II. 


Y ANG came back from his inter- 
view with the Shen with a re- 
quest from Yoo Laoveh that I 
would myself privately visit him, for 
which purpose his chair was waiting 
round a corner. He would esteem 
it a favour if I would slip away 
without letting my domestics know, 
to avoid gossip, and embroilment 
with the English consul and com- 
missioner (my chief), who would 
immediately raise a tremendous 
rumpus about encroaching on their 
prerogatives in summoning an Eng- 
lishman to give evidence in a 
Chinese court. This was so true 
that it struck me as remarkably 
strange that the Shen should make 

T I 


12 


Gbe Sben’s pigtail 


such a proposition to a young foreign 
assistant, who might naturally be 
expected not to take such a step 
without permission. I went with 
alacrity, as I loved to do things 
without permission. I was ushered 
into the Shen’s private rooms, and 
found him a little, wizen-faced, 
shrunken creature in loose black 
silk, wearing tremendous yellow- 
glass goggles. He astounded me by 
speaking quickly, in English. 

“ I know you very well, Mr. 

M , and I was sure that you 

would come.” 

I was very much surprised at 
this. 

“ You know the circumlocutions 
employed by Chinese witnesses, and 
I know r the directer methods of your 
honourable countrymen. It will take 
me the whole night to get the few 
particulars I want from my excellent 
friend Mr. Yang.” 

Mr. Yang had only picked up a 
limited compradore’s pidgin-Eng- 
lish, and could not follow' its 
meaning when spoken glibly and 


tb e Sben's UMgtall 


13 


grammatically. Hearing his name 
mentioned he bowed and smiled, 
and the Shen smiled and bowed. 

“ Question, sir ; I shall answer 
briefly.” 

“ You returned from shooting be- 
fore or after sunset ? ” 

“ At sunset.” 

“ Dined ? ” 

“ Ten minutes after. At table two 
hours.” 

“ To bed?” 

“ Half an hour after.” 

“ Drunk?” 

“ Very somnolent.” 

“ The crew ? ” 

“ One bottle of Old Tom. Still 
laughing and talking when I fell off 
to sleep.” 

“ Time of attack ? ” 

“ Impossible to say. All the time- 
pieces had been carried off.” 

“ Ah, ah. A very serious stum- 
bling block. And between the time 
of the attack and the morning you 
all dozed at one period or another, 
and your slumbers were not alto- 
gether normal owing to the fact that 


14 


tlbe Sben's pigtail 


you drank a quart of Monopole each 
and retired to bed very soon after an 
exceptionally heavy meal. This I 
think is what you said ? ” 

“ It is.” 

“ In that case there seems to me 
no means of fixing the precise time ; 
it might have been anything be- 
tween io p.m. and 5 a.m. But stay ! 
I think you mentioned a priest living 
on the bank ; doubtless he would 
have heard something.” 

“ The priest, sir, was found mur- 
dered in his bed.” 

Somehow there seemed to me 
something diabolical in the big 
tortoise-shell rimmed discs staring 
fixedly at me out of the wrinkled 
yellow face as he repeated — 

“ Oh, the priest was dead ? In 
that case it seems to me a very 
difficult case — a very difficult case. 
Is not that your opinion also ? ” 

I thought I detected in this and 
his way of watching me a typical 
Chinese desire to shirk the business ; 
and as I was determined to make 
every effort to recover my gun and 


tl be ©ben's flMgtatt 


15 


the property of my kind host, Mr. 
Yang, I replied hotly — 

“ I don’t think the difficulty of 
fixing the time exhausts the inves- 
tigation ! ” 

“ No, no ; no, no, Mr. M . 

You are a gentleman of very acute 
perception ; I shall do my utmost 
to recover the stolen property and 
punish the culprits. Let us proceed. 
As an Englishman you will doubt- 
less know better than myself how 
the robbers will try to dispose of 
the articles. Had they been purely 
Chinese goods I should have known 
where to search ; but guns, dear 
me, clocks — they would never be 
able to pawn them in a Chinese city.” 

“No ; but they would be able to 
pawn them in Shanghai, or they 
could sell any single gun to a store- 
keeper at any of the treaty ports up 
the river. Second-hand guns are 
always being raffled by the store- 
keepers.” 

“ Dear me, dear me, a wide field 
of search. Now, would you assist 
me, my dear Mr. M ? You 


i6 


XLbc Sben'6 flMcitall 


gentlemen in the Customs know a 
great deal more about transport and 
trade routes than does a poor magis- 
trate shut up in his yamen all day. 
We can never move about, make 
inquiries. Well, these thieves, they 
will want to get rid of their booty 
as quickly as possible ; now, what 
routes lie before them from the spot 
where you were robbed ? ” 

“ If they want to get to Shanghai, 
they can go straight by canal via 
Soochow, which could be done 
within three days, or they could 
catch the daily river steamer, which 
takes about twenty hours from 
Chinkiang.” 

“ Oh, oh ! is that so ? Then if 
they go by canal we can catch them 
by steamer. But what time did the 
steamer leave ? ” 

“ On Sunday night, when the 
robbery and murder were commit- 
ted, the Yuenwo left Chinkiang down 
about midnight ; she would stop at 
the first passenger station below 
Tantu about 3 a.m. There is no 
down-steamer to-night.” 


Gbe Sben's flMgtatl 


17 


“ So that the robbers must have 
been at Chinkiang before 12 p.m., 
or at the passenger station of Santou 
by 3 a.m. How long would it take 
from your anchoring-place to these 
two points ? ” 

“To Chinkiang, overland, three 
hours at least ; to Santou, by river, 
with the stream, two hours.” 

“ But to get into the river they 
must have followed the canal to 
Tantu by boat, which would necessi- 
tate passing the night-barrier at 
Yueh-ho. As, indeed, had they pro- 
ceeded straight to Shanghai by canal, 
they would have had to pass the 
night-barrier at Sinfung.” 

“ Precisely ; unless they had left 
their boat the other side of either of 
these barriers.” 

“ Then you think I ought to ? ” 

“ Make stringent inquiries at the 
canal barriers above and below our 
position, at the guard-station on the 
only main road from Yueh-ho to 
Chinkiang, and telegraph at once to 
the Shanghai police a full descrip- 
tion of the articles.” 


18 


tTbc Sben's Tptgtatl 


“ But suppose they should take the 
goods up river, to Hankow or Kiu- 
kiang ? ” 

“ They could not have caught 
Sunday’s up-steamer, and to-night’s 
is due within an hour. I should 
suggest that you send some of your 
runners to overhaul passengers’ bag- 
gage. A gun-barrel is not so easily 
concealed.” 

“ Excellent, Mr. M , excellent. 

You would make a detective. I shall 
do everything you have advised, and 
1 feel sure that you will own I have 
done my best. I also feel sure I shall 
recover many of the articles lost.” 
He looked at me, however, in what I 
thought a vindictive manner. 

“ Unless ” I said. 

“ Unless what ? ” 

“ Unless the articles are at present 
lying concealed at Chinkiang.” 

Yoo Laoyeh started. 

“ At Chinkiang ? Oh, surely, no ; 
I thought you were quite of opinion 
that the thieves would carry them 
either to Shanghai or up river ? ” 

“ I think it most probable that 


tTbe Sben's HMgtall 


19 


the robbery was committed by Chin- 
kiang men, and that the goods are 
now hidden here, and that therefore 
your endeavours should also be con- 
centrated on finding out who arrived 
at Chinkiang between Sunday mid- 
night and this morning. It ought 
not to be so difficult, seeing that no 
boats can pass up by night.” 

“ Oh ! in that I am sure you are 
mistaken. They would never bring 
the goods to Chinkiang ; they would 
wait for the up- or down-steamer at 
Santou, or proceed to Shanghai by 
canal. Why should you think that 
the thieves come from this city ? ” 

“ Why, it is fairly natural. The 
sanpanmen on the foreshore are all 
thieves, or in league with thieves ; 
they see our boat fitted up and 
ready to start ; they hear where we 
are going ; perhaps they have a 
member among our own crew, who 
tells them just where we shall anchor 
for the night, and that no watch is 
kept.” 

Yoo, who had looked rather 
gloomy when I began to accuse the 


20 


XLh e Sbett'6 pigtail 


city over which he was supposed to 
watch, suddenly brightened up as if 
struck by an idea. 

“ Ha ! a very important item. 
Let us proceed to the crew.” 

He now questioned the owner of 
the boat, Mr. Yang, in Chinese, and 
then turned to me with what seemed 
— for it was all guess-work with such 
an inscrutable face — malicious tri- 
umph. 

“Very sad; very sad. I think, my 

dear Mr. M , that we had best 

confine our attention at present to 
the recovery of the articles without 
endeavouring too closely to hunt out 
the culprits. I ’m sure you will agree 
with me.” 

“ Scarcely,” I replied. “ And the 
poor old murdered priest ? ” 

“ Oh, now, my dear Mr. M , 

I think you are attaching too much 
importance to the life of a man who 
has already renounced the world 
and waits for nothing but death.” 

“ I should feel it my duty, sir, to 
ask the consul to take the most ener- 
getic steps in tracing the crime, 


Z be S ben's pigtail 


21 


unless you assure me that you intend 
to do so. May I ask what has caused 
you to wish to hush it up ?” 

“ Sir,” he said with much dignity, 
“ I, the magistrate, desire to hush up 
the crime ? If I made anything ap- 
proaching such a suggestion, it was 
out of regard for the reputation of 
foreigners, which I cherish as dearly 

as my own. It was, Mr. M , out 

of regard for you" 

I was considerably taken aback. 

“ Mr. Yang’s friends, and his crew, 
are all above suspicion ; the latter 
have been in his employ for many 
years ; there was only one stranger 
there.” 

“ Well ? ” I said haughtily. 

“ That stranger was — your boy.” 

This was certainly a home-thrust. 
A European in China knows nothing 
of the character of his domestics. 
I had taken on Chung Yin, my boy, 
with very slight references, and since 
he had been in my employ, had heard 
not a few serious accusations against 
him from the other servants, which I 
dismissed as mere kitchen jealousies. 


22 


Cbe Sben's pigtail 


“ If there is the slightest suspicion 
against my servant I shall be the 
first to insist on its investigation.” 

“Very proper, very proper. At 
the same time I must tell you, Mr. 

M , with much reluctance, that 

Chung Yin has a very bad record in 
my books, and that if he is even at 
large, it is solely owing to the pro- 
tection of being in foreign employ.” 

“ I have no desire to give shelter 
to rascals.” 

This disclaimer, I felt, was not 
strictly true. Englishmen in China 
feel a lazy, hectoring pride in think- 
ing that their name is an aegis against 
all the laws of the country. 

“ And you are aware of the means 
employed in our benighted courts 
for the extraction of a confession 
from subjects ? ” 

I was ; and the idea of that hand- 
some young fellow, who, whatever his 
record, was an absolutely indispens- 
able servant — the idea, I say, of this 
man writhing under the torture 
troubled me. 

“Very well,” I said angrily, “ if 


Gbe Sbett's pigtail 


23 


your excellency desires not to press 
the investigation, I shall say nothing 
further until I have myself ques- 
tioned the boy. In fact, I beg your 
pardon ; I ought to thank you for 
the courtesy of your reluctance.” 

Yoo Laoyeh bowed and grinned. 

“ Come, now you are reasonable, 

my dear Mr. M . Rest assured 

that I shall not neglect my duty, and 
that at the same time I am always 
exceedingly anxious to cause for- 
eigners no annoyance with regard 
to their Chinese domestics. And 
now you will join me in a glass of 
wine, and within half an hour tele- 
grams shall be sent to Shanghai and 
the river ports.” 

The Shen’s servants now came in 
with wine glasses and a quart bottle 
of champagne swathed in a napkin. 

“ This is the same seal as we had 
on the boat,” I remarked when I 
had sipped it, unthinkingly. “Really, 
Laoyeh, a small bottle would have 
been quite enough.” 

The Shen was blowing his nose, 
and took off his big yellow goggles 


24 


Gbe Sben's flMgtall 


to wipe them. Whether it was the 
change produced in his expression 
by the disclosure of the piercing 
little black eyes in their network of 
wrinkles, or the mere fondness for 
stray shots, “ Laoyeh,” I said, with 
a smile, “ when I came in you did me 
the honour to say you knew my face ; 
and now, as I depart, I have the 
honour to return the compliment.” 

Yoo seemed, to my surprise, liter- 
ally to gasp, and hastily replaced his 
spectacles. He saluted Yang, and 
shook hands with me with his 
skinny claw-like fingers. 

“Your gun shall be found, Mr. 

M , your gun shall be found ; 

and your servant, your useful servant, 
you shall not be deprived of him ; 
we will take no further steps ; we 
will take no further steps. Is it not 
so?” 

There was much that I did not 
like in the Shen’s manner and words. 


III. 


T HE only telegraph wire to 
Shanghai was in the hands 
of the Chinese authorities, so 
I thought it useless to wire myself, 
as if the Shen did not mean to, he 
would certainly see that I did not 
go behind him. I therefore prepared 
a list of the things for the Shanghai 
Municipal Police, to go down by 
Tuesday’s steamer. It was now 
io p.m. of Monday night. 

I immediately rang for the boy. 
He appeared, as ingenuous and un- 
conscious of evil as usual. 

“ Did you see any of the robbers ? ” 
“ No, master ; how could I ? The 
first thing we knew was that we 
were nailed down. You saw that 
yourself, master.” 

25 


26 


Gbe ©ben's pigtail 


“ That 's true. Now, I want those 
screws.” 

The boy turned pale. 

“ What screws, master ? I no 
have take your screws. You can 
count them ; all have got inside 
that box.” 

Being addicted to canoe-building, 
I had a set of carpenter’s tools, and 
a box containing every assortment 
of screws. 

“ Well, well, boy. You know I 
am a good master and wish you no 
harm. I want to find out who was 
at the bottom of this business. If 
you had a hand in it, tell me all 
about it, and I will see that you 
come to no harm. I will pay your 
passage down to Hongkong, and 
give you twenty dollars besides.” 

“ Oh, master, I know nothing ! ” 

“ Very well. Now go down to the 
boat and get my things, and find at 
least one of those screws with which 
you were screwed down.” 

He started off, evidently in great 
distress. 

“ Boy ! ” I said, calling him back. 


Gbe ©ben's pigtail 


27 


“ One word of advice — don’t run 
away. The steamers are watched 
at both ends, I know your home, 
and the Shen knows your haunts in 
Chinkiang. You are perfectly safe 
as long as you trust in me.” He went. 

Well, Chung Yin never came back, 
and not one of those screws was 
to be found on the boat. Further- 
more, the holes had been jagged 
and enlarged, so that it was im- 
possible to guess the diameter and 
twist. At the same time I could 
not assert that any of my screws 
were missing, as I did not know 
their original number. But on 
Tuesday morning, when there was 
no doubt that he had fled, the 
matter seemed to be put beyond 
question. On searching his room I 
found not only in the drawer under 
some papers half a dozen brass 
screws with chips of wood in the 
thread, but, in the wadding of the 
mattress, my own watch. I was 
wearing on the boat only a common 
Waterbury watch, with a gold chain. 
The chain was not there too. 


28 


Gbe Sben's pigtail 


I could not do less than imme- 
diately report the whole matter to 
the Commissioner, who at once in- 
formed the Taotai, in order that 
no time should be lost in effecting 
Chung Yin’s arrest. I, you may be 
sure, had not this object in view in 
reporting him, but merely that of 
not becoming myself an “ accessory 
after the fact.” I consoled myself 
by reflecting that the boy had a 
whole night’s start, and was fore- 
warned of the dangers he ran. The 
same evening after dusk the coolie 
announced a Chinaman, a teacher, 
he thought ; and Yoo Laoyeh, the 
redoubtable Shen in person, who 
could never leave his yamen without 
a score of followers and a braying of 
trumpets, paid me a visit incognito. 

“ I could not rest without return- 
ing you your polite visit last night,” 
he began, carefully closing the door 
after him. 

“ Thank you.” 

“ But how sagacious of you, how 
sagacious of you to have already 
unearthed the chief culprit and re- 


Gbe Sben's flMgtait 


29 


covered your property ! And the 

screws ! Really, Mr. M , you 

are a born detective.” 

“ Why ? ” 

“ Why ? Why, that discovery of 
the screws proves the whole matter 
conclusively ! Two - inch brass 
screws ! No native carpenter ever 
uses brass screws. And, I think the 
Taotai informed me, they correspond 
with those kept in your tool-chest, 
to which no one but your boy had 
access ? ” 

“ Perfectly true.” 

“ You handed them over, I think, 
to the Commissioner ? ” 

“ I did.” 

“Well, they have, of course, been 
placed in my hands. I have exam- 
ined them, and found bits of wood 
in the hollow parts, and I have even 
compared this wood with the holes 
from which they were pulled, and 
find it is the same, so that the whole 
thing is conclusively proved, thanks 

to your sagacity, Mr. M , thanks 

to your sagacity. There is only one 
stranger in the boat, the only one, 


30 


Gbe Sben's pigtail 


indeed who knows what valuables 
are on board, and who, from his 
diverse experience in foreign service, 
knows the value of sporting guns and 
how they can easily be disposed of ; 
knows furthermore, as an ordinary 
thief would not, how to detach the 
barrels from the stock. No ordinary 
native thief, I am sure, would ever 
saddle himself with such a con- 
spicuous article as a foreign gun, 
which he would never dare to offer to 
a pawnshop, or native ‘ fence,’ where 
alone he ever sells stolen goods. 
Observe, also, that no body of thieves 
would go all the way from Chinkiang 
on a wild goose hunt without know- 
ing within ten miles where you will 
anchor for the night. Who knows 
where that will be ? The boatmen ? 
They have never been on that part 
of the canal before at all. Who, 
then ? Why, no one but your boy, 
who has accompanied you to the 
same spot a score of times. That is 

not all ; alas, my dear Mr. M , I 

am so sorry. You know I foresaw 
this, and did my very best to dissuade 


3i 


tTbe Sben'5 pigtail 

you from pressing the matter. Your 
favourite boy, whom you have done 
your best to shield, a thief, and, alas, 
we fear, something worse, hunted 
all over the Yangtze, and then his 
head stuck on a pole, ten yards from 
your door, and a crowd round it 
every day saying, ‘A foreigner’s boy ; 

Mr. M ’s boy of the Customs ! ’ 

So sad, so sad ! Yes, I say, that is 
not all. We are coming to the 
worst part. Why was the priest 
killed ? Why could he not have 
been bound, as you were, or, if that 
was not sufficient, gagged ? It was 
dark, and the thieves wore masks ; 
they had no fear of identification. 
What face alone was well known to 
him ? Chung Yin’s ; Chung Yin, 
your boy, who had put up at the 
same place a score of times, and who, 
as the villagers know, w r as on bad 
terms with the poor old priest on 
account of his overbearing manner 
of ordering him about — overbearing 
because he was in foreigner’s employ. 
The priest, there can be no doubt, 
saw Chung Yin in consultation with 


32 


Gbe Sben’6 pigtail 


some of the thieves — the boatmen 
can prove that Chung Yin went 
ashore on some pretext after you 
had returned from shooting. And 
so the priest, who, if questioned, 
would be certain to cast suspicion 
on your boy, was murdered. And 
then, if any final proof was needed, 

you, Mr. M , so clever, hit on 

it at once. You suspected Chung 
Yin ; you cast about in your mind, 
and then, with that penetration 
which you possess so marvellously, 

Mr. M , you said to yourself, 

‘ If he stole my screws he is guilty ; 
if he is guilty he will flee. I shall 
be sorry to see the poor fellow tor- 
tured and decapitated ; whatever his 
faults, he has been a good servant 
to me. I will say the one word 
“ screws.” Then I shall either be 
convinced of his innocence, or, if he 
is guilty, give him a night’s start, 
with a few valuable hints, without 
compromising myself. And what 
has happened ? Chung Yin has fled, 
and there can be no further possible 
doubt of his guilt.” 


XLhc Sben's flMQtall 


33 


Yoo leant back in his chair, after 
this powerful denunciation, ener- 
getically delivered, and fixed his 
enormous impenetrable spectacles 
on my face, with hands tucked into 
his sleeves. 

For myself, I was at first quite 
overpowered. This remarkable man 
seemed to have divined my thoughts, 
and to have concatenated an irre- 
fragable chain of evidence against 
poor Chung. To tell the truth, I 
was for the moment frightened of 
him, despite certain very remarkable 
points. However, recovering my- 
self, I determined to see what new 
complexion these points would put 
on the case. So, fixing my eyes 
steadily on the Shell’s mobile mouth, 
since his eyes and his hands, such 
important indicators of confusion, 
were concealed, I began — 

“ You have been very kind in 
praising my penetration, Yoo Laoyeh, 
far more than it deserves standing 
by itself ; while placed beside the 
wonderful example of intuition and 
deduction you have done me the 

3 


34 


tr be Sben's pigtail 


honour to display, your praise would 
sound almost ironical did I not know 
how candid and friendly you have 
been to me. However, as discussion 
brings new points to view, allow me 
to go over your evidence. In the 
first place you say, Laoyeh, that you 
examined the screws and found the 
grains of wood identical with the 
decking ? ” 

The Shen seemed very consider- 
ably surprised by this beginning. 
He bent forward. 

“Well, Laoyeh, that was a very 
important discovery, and a very diffi- 
cult one when made only with spec- 
tacles. Now this thing,” I said, 
opening a box, “ is a microscope.” 

“Yes, yes?” 

“ First,” I said, leaning back and 
disappointing him, “ I must tell you, 
Laoyeh, that I do a great deal of 
amateur carpentering, and have had 
some experience in different kinds 
of pine.” 

He looked at me expectantly. 

“ So that, with the aid of this 
miscroscope, which magnifies things 


Gbe Sben's pigtail 


35 


very considerably, I could, for 
instance, detect the difference in the 
grain of Hankow pine, with which 
native boats are planked, and Oregon 
pine, which I use for my canoe, and 
many bits of which are now lying in 
the kitchen downstairs, broken up 
for firewood.” 

The Shen seemed to get grey 
about the mouth. “ Impossible ! ” 
he murmured. 

“Further, the deck of Mr. Yang’s 
boat is varnished with wood-oil, 
while the discarded pieces from my 
boat are covered with white or green 
paint. Of course there is no ques- 
tion here of Oregon pine and paint ; 
only we may expect that the wood 
on the screw shall be Hankow pine, 
and not improbably contain a speck 
of oil varnish near the head.” 

Yoo Laoyeh was obviously dis- 
pleased. 

“ But what is the use of discussing 
this, since the screws are in my 
yamen , and have already been suffi- 
ciently examined ? ” 

“ Stay, Laoyeh. When I handed 


36 


Cbe Sbett'e pigtail 


the screws to the Commissioner I 
took the liberty of abstracting one, 
just for a little amusement with my 
microscope.” And I drew it from 
my pocket, carefully placed in a 
match-box, and placed it under the 
glass, the focus of which I adjusted, 
and then, bringing the lamp near, I 
asked the Shen to look, which, with 
an appearance of eagerness and 
alarm, he did. 

“ Great heavens ! ” he murmured, 
“ there is certainly paint on that 
screw : blue or green, I cannot dis- 
tinguish which.” 

“ Now compare this very con- 
siderable chip, which has come off 
with one of the screws, with a similar 
bit from a plank of my boat, and one 
from the actual plank of Mr. Yang’s 
boat. Which does it most resem- 
ble?” 

“ I cannot possibly distinguish 
between them. No one could. The 
proof is of no weight whatever.” 

“ In that case, then, compare the 
original screw with an exactly similar 
one which I myself drove into the 


Gbe Sben’s ipigtaxl 


37 


plank of Mr. Yang’s boat, and 
wrenched out again. Is the colour 
of the two woods in the thread the 
same ? ” 

The Shen took off his spectacles, 
readjusted the focus, and stared into 
the microscope for some time. Then 
he sat down, being careful to put 
on his spectacles the moment he 
lifted his head. He had been de- 
ciding on his course of action ; I 
noticed on looking through the 
microscope that it was an impossible 
focus for any sight. 

“ My dear Mr. M ! You 

grieve me very much. You alarm 
me seriously. You desire to shield 
your boy — very laudable, certainly, 
but in this case — only, be careful ! 
That screw that you show me there, 
in so interesting a manner, is not 
identical with those found in Chung 
Yin’s room ! ” 

I could scarcely conceal a gesture 
of triumph and discovery. The 
Shen prevaricate ? I was on the 
track of a suspicion that his able 
accusation against my boy had 


38 


Gbe Sben'e pigtail 


almost dispelled, or at least, over- 
whelmed. 

“ Well, well, Laoyeh,” I said, 
laughing, “ you will forgive me if 
my vanity, swollen by your flattering 
remarks, sought to obtain credit for 
more perspicuity than it had a right 
to. I will continue my remarks.” 

This was a false move. The Shen, 
suddenly convinced that I was de- 
ceiving him as he was deceiving me, 
was on his guard, and angry. 

“ Passing over the incident of the 
screw, the next point against Chung 
Yin is that he alone knew where we 
should anchor. I admit the plausi- 
bility of that. Then, Laoyeh, comes 
a very damning fact, the discovery 
of which, by you who never leave 
your yamen and who heard of the 
whole affair only last night for the 
first time, is an evidence of your 
marvellous experience in investiga- 
tion. It is the fact that Chung Yin’s 
face was well known to the priest, 
and that the priest had a grudge 
against Chung Yin. I shudder 
to think that Chung has been in 


Gbe Sben’s flMcjtatl 


39 


my service, for at the first glance 
this seems to convict him as the 
prime instigator, if not the perpetra- 
tor, of the murder. It is terrible. 
At the same time, Laoyeh, I sub- 
mit to your experienced judgment 
whether another view is possible.” 

“ What is it ? ” he said suspi- 
ciously. “ I must confess I cannot 
possibly conceive any other view.” 

“ It is this. While the priest was 
the only one who could identify 
Chung Yin among the boat’s occu- 
pants, Chung Yin was the only one 
on board the boat who could iden- 
tify the priest ! ” 

The Shen leapt up from his chair, 
but immediately sat down again. 

“ Continue ; continue. Are there 
any more counts ? ” 

“ There is one more. Is it neces- 
sary for me to mention it ? ” 

“Necessary?” replied the Shen, 
who had recovered his self-control ; 
“ I don’t understand what you mean 
by necessary.” 

“ Then I will continue.” 

“ Do so.” 


40 


Gbe ©ben's pigtail 


“ The final and conclusive proof 
of my boy’s guilt is his flight.” 

“ Exactly,” said Yoo, rubbing his 
hands, as if he felt on safe ground 
again. u I don’t see how you can 
possibly get over that.” 

“ That is so,” I replied reflec- 
tively. “ If Chung Yin has run 
away after what I said to him, 
nothing will persuade me that he is 
not actually a murderer.” 

“ What do you mean by 1 If Chung 
Yin has run away ’ ? ” 

Looking very fixedly at the Shen, 
I said slowly — 

“ I do not believe that Chung Yin 
has run away.” 

The Shen hastily pulled off his 
dark spectacles, and thrust his head 
forward to fix me with his malevo- 
lent serpent’s eyes — for a moment ; 
then, as if he could not restrain him- 
self, he sprang forward and seized 
me with both hands by the breast of 
my coat. 

“ What do you mean ? or rather, 
what do you know ? Come, tell 
me, what do you know ? ” 


STbe Sben’6 pigtail 


41 


“ Won’t you sit down, Laoyeh ? 
I think I am stronger than you, and 
you will fatigue your thumbs.” 

The Shen recovered himself and 
sat down. “ I am an old man, Mr. 

M , and I get nervous. I have 

come to see you simply as a magis- 
trate anxious to do his duty in sifting 
a crime, and anxious to spare a 
foreigner, and especially one whom 
he holds in great esteem, from an awk- 
ward publicity. I told you frankly 
how the case appeared to me, with- 
out, you will believe me, the slightest 
bias against your servant. I con- 
sider the chief proof of his guilt was 
in his flight ; and I took this flight 
for granted because it was yourself 
who announced it.” 

“ I announced simply that my ser- 
vant had disappeared '.” 

“ And that he had concealed part 
of the booty in his mattress.” 

“ And that a watch, valued five 
dollars, without a chain, valued 
thirty dollars, was found in his 
mattress.” 

“ And that the screws employed 


42 


Cbe 5ben r s {pigtail 


by the robbers were concealed in 
his drawer.” 

“ And that screws, hammered into 
and wrenched out of an old painted 
plank of my canoe lying in the 
kitchen for firewood, were found 
placed conspicuously in his drawer.” 

“ I cannot possibly conceive what 
you are driving at by putting these 
distorted interpretations on ordinary 
evidences of guilt, such as invariably 
lead to the conviction of thieves.” 

“ I cannot conceive of any experi- 
enced thief, such as this one must 
have been, leaving such proofs be- 
hind him ; of hiding a worthless 
watch, and not hiding the valuable 
chain attached to it ; of forgetting 
the screws, when, as you tell me, 
the word ‘ screws ’ put him to 
flight.” 

“ Admirably reasoned Mr. M ; 

admirably reasoned. It is a pity 
that your last words neutralise all 
the rest.” 

“ What do you mean, Laoyeh ? ” 

“ Why, the undoubted fact that 
the word ‘ screws ’ did put him to 


Gbe Sben's jpigtatl 


43 


flight, or, if you cling to the euphe- 
mism, cause him to disappear.” 

“ There is a very strong difference 
between the two, Laoyeh,” I said 
meaningly. “ As strong a differ- 
ence, perhaps, as between murdering 
and being murdered.” 

The Shen made a gesture as of 
one putting away an unpleasant 
picture, but took no other notice 
of the reference. 

“ I cannot understand you. You 
own that you spoke to him of the 
screws, that you indirectly accused 
him of complicity, and that you 
said, ‘ Don’t run away.’ ” 

“ I do.” 

“ And that, two minutes after- 
wards, he went out, and never came 
back again.” 

“ I do.” 

“ In that case I think it is useless 
to waste further words. No sane 
person can possibly doubt that he 
took the alarm, if it was n’t a hint, 
and fled precipitately, so alarmed as 
to neglect even the precaution of 
throwing away the screws.” 


44 


Gbe Sben's tptgtatl 


“ One moment, Yoo Laoyeh,” I 
said, standing up before him, and 
my voice trembling with anger. 
“ I have only one question to ask. 
If you can give me a satisfactory 
answer I shall be convinced.” 

“Well, what is it?” he replied, 
apparently feeling quite at his ease 
with this powerful argument. 

“ It is this,” I said impressively, 
laying a stress on each word. “ How 
is it that my talk with Chung Yin 
about the screws , spoken to him alone , 
with no witnesses , is known to 
you ? ” 


IV. 


T HE Shen fell back in his chair, 
and covered his face with his 
hands. 

“ Great God,” he exclaimed, “ I 
have betrayed myself ! ” 

“ You have,” I said sternly. 
“ From the moment you produced 
Mr. Yang’s champagne, which is 
only put up in quarts, which is not 
sold in Shanghai, and the taste of 
which I shall not confuse with any 
other seal (for it was I who recom- 
mended it to him), my suspicions 
were aroused. On the way home I 
went over our conversation in my 
mind. I was struck by four things. 
One was, that you seemed consider- 
ably startled when I remarked the 
similarity of the wine with that stolen 
from the boat. Another was, that 


45 


4 6 


Gbe Sben's UMgtait 


you seemed annoyed that I should 
urge investigation in Chinkiang, and 
over anxious to dismiss this idea from 
my mind and direct my attention 
to the provenance of the thieves 
elsewhere. A third was, that you 
should feign ignorance of the main 
feature of the case, which could not 
have failed to be reported to you ” 
— here I eyed him closely, and he 
quailed. “ I refer to the murder of 
the priest.” He put his hands over 
his eyes. “ And when I told you 
of it, you treated it in a way pecu- 
liarly callous for an educated official 
and a magistrate, who of all men is 
supposed to abhor crime. Finally, 
Mr. Yoo, when you removed your 
spectacles ” 

“Yes? What then?” 

“ When you removed your spec- 
tacles I was at once struck by a 
resemblance to some face that I had 
seen, to some face the recollection 
of which had been summoned by 
our conversation, but which at the 
time I could not for the life of me 
specify.” 


Zbc ©ben’s pigtail 


47 


Yoo was staring at me in abject 
terror. “ And has your memory 
since enabled you to identify the 
fancied resemblance ? ” he asked, 
in a low voice. 

“ That I shall not at present say.” 

“ Oh, this is terrible ! ” I thought 
I heard him murmur. Then, re- 
signedly, “ Continue.” 

“So much for our first meeting. 
I then came home and questioned 
my boy. His replies seemed to me 
those of an innocent man ; but I 
placed no reliance on that, as the 
face of a Chinese servant, trained 
from its earliest youth to the decep- 
tion of the foreigner, is, I confess, 
beyond my penetration. But, I will 
tell you frankly, I promised him my 
protection if he were guilty, and I 
am convinced that, however great 
his panic, he would put full reliance 
in at least the good faith of that 
promise. I am convinced that, had 
he doubted my ability to carry it 
out, he would have said to me, 
‘ Master, I am guilty, and should 
like to flee to-night ’ ; and I should 


4* 


Gbe Sben's flMatail 


have given him a supply of ready 
money, and provided a reasonable 
excuse for his absence.” 

“ Oh, oh,” muttered the Shen ; 
“ you are bold.” 

“This was at io or n p.m. last 
night. Feeling very anxious at his 
non-return, I sat out in the front 
balcony listening. At length, two 
hours after his departure — that is to 
say, at midnight — I hear a tap at the 
gate, which the watchman, out of 
impatience or spitefulness to Chung 
Yin, had padlocked, as he does when 
all the domestics are at home. The 
tap being repeated more loudly, the 
watchman woke up and growled out, 
‘ Who ’s there ? ’ ‘ Me,’ was the reply. 
‘ Who ’s me ? ’ ‘ Chung Yin.’ The 

watchman then opened the door, 
and a man entered, who spoke very 
seriously to the watchman, who in 
his turn answered much more re- 
spectfully than was usual when 
Chung Yin returned home late, as 
I am well aware that he often did. 
The late arrival then went round to 
the servants' quarters at the back, 


Zbc Sben's 


49 


and I, feeling fully justified in play- 
ing the spy, ran across in bare feet 
to the back balcony, and leaned over 
to listen. The new-comer, who I 
naturally supposed to be Chung 
Yin, went straight to the coolie’s 
room, woke him, and a light was 
struck. Unfortunately I could not 
see his face through the paper 
window, nor could I catch what 
was said. After a short colloquy 
Chung Yin came out, and after 
going into his own room went away 
again, the watchman opening the 
door for him very noiselessly, and 
locking it in the same manner 
behind him without a word. Very 
good, I thought, not without a 
feeling of disappointment ; Chung 
Yin has found that there is a sus- 
picion against him, and has deter- 
mined to flee. He thinks it too late 
to wake me, but he has to get some 
things and possibly remove suspicious 
traces from his room ; and he has 
bribed the gate-keeper to say nothing, 
and made arrangements with the 
coolie against the future. I then 

4 


50 


3be Sben's flMgtall 


slept uneasily and heavily ; I fancied 
I heard some one creeping about in 
my store-room, where the tools are 
kept, but dismissed it as a dream. 
Having formed this conjecture, what 
was my surprise when the coolie 
came to inform me that Chung Yin 
had gone, insisting, to my questions, 
that he had not come back at all, 
and himself suggesting that Chung 
Yin was the thief, and that I should 
search his room. In the search it 
was practically he who laid my hand 
on the concealed articles. I ate my 
breakfast in deep thought. What, 
I asked myself, could possibly be 
Chung Yin’s idea in arranging with 
the coolie to betray him ? — for I at 
once perceived that the concealed 
articles were what is called a put-up 
job, a conclusion which I quickly 
verified by my microscope and the 
screw. I was completely baffled 
when you came in to-night. I 
listened to your denunciation, and 
was almost convinced when, at the 
last moment, to use your own words, 
you betrayed yourself. You repeated 


Zb c Sben's pigtail 


51 


to me my last conversation with 
Chung Yin. The only person who 
could have possibly overheard me 
was the coolie, and he does not know 
a word of English. I myself made 
no mention of that conversation in 
my report to the Commissioner. 
Therefore your only possible source 
of information was Chung Yin him- 
self. 

“ This puzzled me severely. 
Chung Yin confided in you. He 
makes arrangements for his own 
denunciation. You come and de- 
nunciate him. The only thing that 
I refused to believe was that Chung 
should willingly betray to you my 
own desire to abet his flight. How- 
ever, still in the dark, I cast doubt 
on all your ingenious evidence and 
watched you closely. And now 
shall I tell you what conclusion I 
have come to ? ” 

“ Speak ; ] ~iu have discovered all,” 
in an almost inaudible voice. 

“ From our first conversation, my 
notice of the wine and the resem- 
blance, you thought I suspected you, 


52 


Gbe Sben's flMcjtall 


the Shen, of complicity in a theft 
and murder. You determined at all 
hazard to stop my investigations ; 
and the means you chose was to 
mass incontestable proofs against my 
unfortunate boy, so that, if by any 
accident you should not succeed — 
as, however, you felt assured of doing 
— in convincing me that he was the 
culprit, you would at least be able 
to purchase my silence as a ransom 
for his life. With this view you had 
my gate watched to see if I should 
endeavour to push the investigation. 
Perhaps you followed me home your- 
self. You saw the boy come out. 
You followed him to the boat and 
heard him asking for the screws. 
Then you set your diabolical plan in 
motion. You kidnapped poor Chung 
on his way back to me ; this at once 
gave you your strongest proof of 
guilt against him by causing it to 
appear that he had fled. Then, by 
cajolery or torture — which,” I said 
sternly, glaring at him — “ which of 
the two remains to be seen — you 
extracted from him the sum of my 


Gbe Sben’s pigtail 


53 


questions about the screws. You 
next came to the gate and obtained 
entrance by pretending to be Chung 
Yin, and secured the gate-keeper’s 
silence and the coolie’s co-operation 
by threats of punishment, the perfect 
efficiency of which, from an official 
to a servant, is undeniable. The 
coolie came upstairs while I was 
asleep and stole the screws and 
hammered them into a bit of fire- 
wood ; these and the paltry watch 
he concealed in Chung Yin’s room. 
Thus you have utterly over-reached 
yourself ; you have shown me that 
Chung Yin is in your power, and 
the stolen property in your posses- 
sion. I demand the release of my 
boy and the restitution of all the 
property.” 

Yoo remained collapsed within 
himself for some minutes. Then 
he looked at me steadily, and spoke. 

“You have divined my purpose 
with unerring skill. Would to 
heaven you were my friend instead 
of my enemy — that, however, may 
perhaps yet be. My purpose was, 


54 


Gbe Sben’s pigtail 


as you have said, either to convince 
you of his guilt or use his life as an 
exchange for your silence. You de- 
mand his release. I, in exchange, 
demand your silence.” 

I was staggered by his audacity. 

“ But it seems to me, with the 
knowledge I possess, you are scarcely 
in a position to make conditions on 
your side.” 

“My dear Mr. M ! You are 

young and enthusiastic. I am an 
old fox. I remain exactly in my 
original position. What do you 
know ? Absolutely nothing detri- 
mental to me. You have not the 
slightest clue to the real robbers. 
You imagine me to be the possessor 
of the goods because I offered you, 
my guest, a glass of champagne in 
which you detect a fancied resem- 
blance to a wine of which you had 
imbibed a considerable quantity the 
previous night, so that it impreg- 
nated your palate. You believe 
that I caused the watch to be hid 
in your boy’s mattress, and therefore 
I have possession of the goods. 


Gbe 5 ben' 6 pigtail 


55 


There is not the slightest proof. 
You say I have kidnapped your 
boy. The gate-keeper and the coolie 
will swear that he returned at mid- 
night to get some clothes, and told 
them he was leaving. Even were it 
proven that Chung Yin had been 
carried off to my yamen , what does 
it show ? That I was doing my 
duty, and arrested the principal 
criminal at the moment of his flight. 
Your whole accusation against me 
is a tissue of cobwebs, which would 
collapse in the strong air of public 
investigation. The result for your- 
self, you, a young foreigner in the 
service of the Chinese Emperor, 
bringing so serious an accusation 
against one of the Emperor’s old 
and tried judges, would be disas- 
trous. The Inspector-General, you 
know very well, would never retain 
in his service an Assistant against 
whom a powerful native official 
should urge a plausible complaint 
of the most serious possible nature. 

“ On the other side, what is my 
position ? I have in my hands your 


56 Gbe Shen’s pigtail 

boy. The proofs against him, in a 
Chinese court, are overwhelming. 
I should gain the very highest 
applause for promptness and acu- 
men ; it would ensure for me the 
step of chih-fu at the very next 
vacancy. He would inevitably be 
convicted of murder, and for the 
murder of a priest he may be con- 
demned to the slicing process — 
months of every kind of torture, and 
then limb by limb hacked off from the 
living body and thrown to the dogs ! 

“ All this, my own advancement 
and the life of a man in whom you 
are interested, I offer you in return 
for a few idle surmises ; and that 
not from fear, I swear, but solely 
out of admiration and a desire for 
your friendship. What do you say, 
Mr. Mason ? Shall we hush it up ? ” 

I remained silent, my head buried 
in my hands. Before my eyes was 
the picture of a man’s limbless trunk, 
still quivering and spurting blood 
from the sockets of his neck, his 
arms, and his legs. At length I 
looked up. 


Gbe Sben's pigtail 


57 


“We will hush it up. I promise 
to advance no accusations, no insin- 
uations against you in return for the 
release of my boy.” 

Yoo’s countenance expressed the 
most unequivocal relief. He rose 
gaily. 

“ That is all I ask. Your simple 
word satisfies me completely. Chung 
Yin shall return to you in half an 
hour, amply recompensed for any- 
thing he may have suffered. And 
now that we have come to an ami- 
cable settlement, tell me about that 
resemblance you fancied you saw in 
my face. Have you ‘ located ’ it 
yet ? ” 

“ I have not.” 

Yoo Laoyeh took off his hat and 
raised his hand to his brow. He 
held it there a moment as if reflect- 
ing, then slowly replaced his hat. 

“ I was about to become young, 
enthusiastic, confiding again, as I 
have never been since an episode 
that occurred to me twenty years 
ago ; but, as you see, my dear Mr. 
M , the bitterness of experience 


58 


Gbe Sbert’s flMatail 


has come to my rescue, and saved 
you the infliction of a confidence. 
It may come — it may come yet. I 
trust that this antagonism will open 
the way to our future friendship. 
In the meantime, if there is any sort 
of service you require in this coun- 
try, I have the power to aid you ; 
you have only to send me a note 
sealed with this seal,” and he placed 
a small stone seal on the corner of 
the mantelpiece. “ And now I offer 
you my hand in token of friendship.” 

I opened the door and gravely 
bowed him out. 

He drew his hand back with a 
sigh, and I watched his little bowed 
and shrunken form hobble away 
with mingled feelings of curiosity 
and abhorrence. 

“ If it was n’t for that pigtail,” I 
muttered to myself, “ and if I had n’t 
seen the corpse, I could swear it was 
the murdered priest ! ” 


V. 


O N Tuesday, the second night 
after the piracy of our boat 
and the murder of the priest, 
then, I had given my word to the 
Chinese magistrate, or Shen, of Chin- 
kiang to make no accusations against 
him on condition that my boy, Chung 
Yin, whom he had kidnapped, should 
be released. This did not prevent 
me thinking about it as I lit a cigar 
to wait for Chung Yin’s return. 
The case was a very remarkable 
one ; the Shen had undoubtedly 
had a hand in the crime. The 
most remarkable fact was that I 
was sure I had seen the Shen’s face 
in some connection therewith, which 
I could not locate, and that the Shen 
had as much as avowed that I was 


59 


6o 


Gbe 5b en’6 ipigtatl 


right ; and at the moment of his 
departure my memory identified the 
resemblance, and I had exclaimed 
to myself, “ If it was n’t for his pig- 
tail, and that I had seen the corpse, 
I could have sworn it was the mur- 
dered priest ! ” Now this was very 
remarkable. There was not the 
slightest doubt that the priest was 
dead, and that the priest had not a 
hair on his pate, and it was impossible 
to suppose that a Chinese magistrate, 
that is to say, a man presumably of 
honourable and unbroken record, 
could have lost his pigtail, for this 
extremity of disgrace is dealt to 
convicts, and the worst of convicts, 
alone. To cut off a Chinaman’s 
pigtail is only one degree less obnox- 
ious than to cut off a Chinamen’s 
head — it is equivalent to penal servi- 
tude for life. And then the Shen 
had taken off his cap, and I had 
seen the wrinkled forehead and the 
roots of the brushed-back hair with 
my own eyes. And yet, why had the 
priest’s face been disfigured ? And 
why had the Shen quailed so obvi- 


Gbe Sben's pigtail 61 

ously when I accused him, by innu- 
endo, of suppressing my boy, because 
my boy alone could identify the 
priest ? However, I was of a lazy 
disposition, and already tired of the 
mystery ; and at this juncture of my 
reflections Chung Yin returned. 

Now the first thing I did to Chung 
Yin was very strange of a Britisher 
towards his despised domestic — I 
held out my hand. 

“ Give me your hand, Chung Yin ; 
I am sorry if I appeared to suspect 
you.” 

Chung Yin drew back in a sort of 
alarm. 

“ Oh, master, you were quite 
right. Everything was against 
me.” 

“ Give me your hand.” 

He could not refuse this time, so 
he timidly put out his hand. I 
drew it towards the lamp and ex- 
amined the thumb ; then I dropped 
it with a sigh of relief — there was no 
sign of mutilation. Chung Yin 
perceived my intention, and instead 
of a grateful smile for so much 


62 


Zbe Sben's 


solicitude, turned deadly pale, and 
said nothing. 

“And so, Chung Yin, my lad, the 
Shen kidnapped you ? ” 

“ Oh no, master ! ” 

“ You went to him, then, of your 
own accord ? ” 

“Yes, master.” 

“ In order to tell him that I, an 
Assistant in the Customs, was con- 
niving at your escape from justice ? ” 
“Yes, master,” in a low, shame- 
faced voice, and head down-hung. 

“ And he treated you kindly ? ” 

“ Oh yes, master ! ” 

“ That ’s all right. He himself gave 
me a different impression, but I dare 
say I misunderstood him. Now, 
Chung Yin, will you tell me what 
you think of the affair ? It seems to 
me the Shen had a hand in it himself. 
What do you think ? ” 

“ Please, master, let me go to bed. 
I would rather not talk any more 
about it.” 

“ Very well, my lad ; if you have 
nothing to complain of we will let 
the matter drop, and never mention 


Sbe ©belt's flMgtall 


63 

it again. Good-night;” and I laid 
my hand on his shoulder. 

Chung Yin started, and uttered a 
cry of pain. 

“What is the matter, Chung 
Yin ?” 

“ What, master ? ” 

“ You called out ‘ Oh ! ’ when I put 
my hand on your shoulder.” 

“ No, master ; you must have been 
mistaken.” 

“ But I am sure you did, and to 
make certain I shall try again,” rais- 
ing my hand. 

Chung Yin’s shoulder shrank down 
before I touched him ; his face as- 
sumed a look of beseeching terror, 
and he hastened to the door. 

“ Come, Chung Yin, this won’t do ; 
you are hiding something.” 

“ No, master ; only the sun the 
other day made my back sore, and 
you hurt me.” 

“ Chung Yin, take off your coat.” 

“ Oh no, master, no ! ” 

“ You need not be bashful ; I 
only want to see if it needs the 
doctor.” 


/ 


64 


Gbe ©ben's flMataU 


“ Oh no, master, it is nothing. 
Please let me go to bed ; I am 
tired.” 

“ Take off your coat, boy, and no 
foolery. I give you three, and I 
shall take it off myself.” 

Chinese do not wear shirts ; their 
underlinen consists of white cotton 
coats buttoned down the middle. 
Chung Yin, with an expression of 
shame and misery impossible to 
describe, took off his two coats 
together, or rather slipped his arms 
out of the sleeves, and left them 
hanging over his shoulders. I re- 
moved them. 

Chung Yin was a fop, and a 
favourite with the ladies ; his skin 
was as white as a pampered young 
Englishman’s. But it bore now a 
scar which made me shudder. Over 
the shoulder, down the breast, ran 
two or three purple weals. I laid 
the coats gently on his back again, 
and Chung Yin sank into a chair 
and covered his face with his hands, 
sobbing. 

It was some moments before I 


tTbc Sben '8 flMcitafl 


65 


could address the poor fellow. My 
friends used to laugh at me for the 
gentleness with which I always 
treated him afterwards. 

“ My poor Chung Yin ! my poor 
Chung Yin ! Was it molten brass ? ” 

“ Yes, master,” he murmured be- 
tween his sobs. 

“ Well, never mind, my lad. 
What ’s done can’t be exactly un- 
done, but, by God, it shall be 
repaired ! I will give you fifty 
dollars to-morrow, and the doctor 
shall dress it up so that it won’t be 
able to be seen a couple of weeks 
hence ” — for Chinese, from high to 
low, go stripped to the waist in their 
own rooms during the summer, and 
such a scar, indelible, alas ! I knew 
told only one tale, that of criminal 
examination — “ and for to-night take 
this pot of cold cream and this 
handkerchief and make the best of 
it. No one shall ever know anything 
about it.” 

When I said it should be repaired 
my heart said it should be avenged : 

but I knew that such a word would 
5 


66 Gbe Sben's pigtail 


only terrify poor Chung Yin more, 
for a Chinaman always feels that he 
is powerless to escape the wrath of 
his officials, and is cowed into de- 
siring nothing more than submis- 
sion and silence. But from that 
moment I was determined to hunt 
the Shen down ; when I knew all 
that was to be known I • would see 
how far my promise bound me in 
the use I should make of my knowl- 
edge. 


VI. 


T WO weeks later I received the 
following account from my 
friend, Mr. Paunch, detective, 
of Shanghai : 

“ Sir, — I received your letter 
Wednesday morning per ss. Pekin , 
containing account of piracy on 
houseboat in Grand Canal, near Chin- 
kiang, Sunday, with list of stolen ar- 
ticles, viz., 4 guns and i rifle, clock, 
statuette, watches, chains, silks, etc. 
I at once sent round to the pawn 
shops, which are thoroughly under 
our thumb, and found that the clock 
and watches had been pawned, but 
no guns. Fancying that the pirates 
may have been afraid to carry guns 
by steamer on account of Customs 
baggage-search, stationed man at 
67 


68 


tTbc Sben's flMatalt 


Hongkew jetty for Soochow canal- 
boats, but no result. Things all 
pawned by same man in five dif- 
ferent shops during afternoon of 
Monday, from 1.30 p.m. to 3 p.m. ; 
that is, one hour after arrival of 
down-steamer. Got a fair descrip- 
tion of man and his dress, which 
was that of fashionable young stu- 
dent with appearance of opium 
smoker. Inquired at all opium 
divans, also well under our inspec- 
tion, and found the shop where our 
man had smoked Monday evening 
by description of his dress — straw- 
berry-flowered silk blouse and 
mauve satin e leggings, gilt buttons, 
eagle-feather fan, watch and chain. 
Paid for his pipe with Carolus 
dollar, which denotes Kinkiang 
man ; spoke with Kinkiang accent. 
Took a rickshaw from opium shop, 
and by description and Kinkiang 
accent managed to find the coolie 
that drew him, who gave us the 
addresses he ran to that evening. 
His manner made me suspicious of 
truth, and I inquired casually as to 


Gbe Sben'8 flMgtail 


69 


his character in the office. One of 
our constables recognised his num- 
ber, and said he was certain he had 
seen him drive down to the Central 
jetty at 10 p.m. of Monday night 
with a fare ; the rickshaw coolie 
didn’t mention this. Inquired of 
the sanpanmen, and after some 
trouble got one of them to recollect 
that he had rowed a fare over to 
Tungkadoo. Inquired of river- 
police and Tungkadoo constable, 
who could give no help, as a dozen 
sanpans had come over during the 
evening. After wasting a day 
searching Tungkadoo and watching 
the jetties, and offering rewards 
among the sanpanmen, one came 
forward and said he had takan a 
fare from Tungkadoo to McBain’s 
wharf at 10.30 of Monday night ; 
described the man exactly as I have, 
accent, fan, and all. Began to per- 
ceive that I was dealing with an old 
hand ; he had crossed the river to 
put off the scent, and then doubled 
back and caught the up-steamer, 
probably for Chinkiang or Kinkiang, 


l 


7o 


Gbe Sben’s pigtail 


with the proceeds of his sales. That 
Tungkadoo trick had just made me 
too late to wire Kinkiang to look out 
for him. 

“ Set to work meanwhile on the 
other clue. On return of Yuenwo 
from up-trip, inquired of compra- 
dore what passengers he had taken 
on board 3 a.m. Sunday morning 
at first call-station below Tantu. 
There were only three passengers ; 
two were traders whom he knew by 
sight as continually travelling up 
and down, and above suspicion ; 
the third was a big, rough fellow in 
coolie dress, carrying a small, but 
apparently heavy, parcel in a cloth, 
and seeming dead beat, as though 
he had been working hard. I at 
once concluded that this was one of 
the robbers, deputed to carry the 
clock and watches to his confrlre at 
Shanghai. Could not trace him, 
however, so made a note of his 
description. But it gives us one 
important point — namely, that of 
the five robbers only one went to 
Shanghai by steamer, and that with- 


Gbe Sbett's {pigtail 


71 


out the guns. Have made minute 
inquiries along the canal between 
Soochow and Chinkiang, and feel 
convinced that other four men have 
not passed that way. Should have 
supposed they went overland from 
Yueh-ho to Chinkiang but for one 
man turning up at the Santou 
passenger station. Have sent up 
one of my best natives to Tantu, 
where canal joins river, and he is 
pretty convinced that a one-masted 
boat, with four or five men, passed 
out into the river at 1 a.m., although 
the canal likin men swear black and 
blue that they never raised the 
barriers all night for any boat what- 
ever. If this is true the robbers 
must have left their boat at the 
mouth of the canal and gone and 
returned on foot to attack you. At 
any rate pretty certain that they 
all went down river in their boat 
and landed one man with the clock 
at Santou passenger station before 
3 a.m. of Monday morning, and 
then went on their way, the re- 
maining four, with the guns and 


72 


Gbe ©ben's UM^tall 


the boat. The question is, Which 
way did they go — up, down, or 
inland ? 

“ Having got so far, which amount- 
ed to nothing at all, had one of those 
marvellous pieces of luck that upset 
the cleverest of rogues. On Friday 
morning a rickshaw coolie brought 
into the station a fan left in his 
rickshaw overnight. It was an 
eagle-feather fan with ivory handle. 
I sent for the coolie and got a 
description of the fares he had 
carried that day. By all that ’s 
improbable one was our friend in 
the strawberry silk coat and mauve 
unmentionables. This quite bucked 
me up, especially as the coolie who 
brought the fan in was quite re- 
liable, and an old friend of mine. 
He had driven his fare up to one of 
the flash tea-shops in the French 
settlement about mid-day, and soon 
after leaving saw the fan and went 
back with it; but the ‘boys’ 
swore no such person as he de- 
scribed had ever been in their shop, 
and turned him out. However, we 


Gbe Sbett’s HM^tatl 


73 


advertised the fan and placed a 
watch on the tea-house, although I 
did n’t dare send in any of our 
natives, as the house had a bad 
reputation, and he might be recog- 
nised and alarm our bird. I wished 
then I had old bald-headed China- 
man Jack, the Hong Kong ’tec. of 
my early days, who could assume 
any disguise, from a priest to a 
mandarin. Wonder what has be- 
come of old Jack ? He left the 
police twenty years ago. 

“ This fact of our thief being still 
in the port put me on a new tack ; 
I must have been mistaken in sup- 
posing he went on board the up 
steamer at Hongkew. But one of 
the sanpanmen swore he took him 
to Hongkew ; how then did he get 
back to the French settlement, sup- 
posing he lived there ? It was not 
likely he would have walked after 
smoking as much opium as he ap- 
peared to have ; so I made in- 
quiries among the rickshaws, an 
easy matter. It appeared certain 
that no such man as our friend with 


74 


Gbe Sben's pigtail 


the fan had been driven from the 
American settlement to the French. 
As a chance I then sent for the 
sanpanman who had so glibly 
volunteered the information about 
carrying Mr. Fan to Hongkew, and 
told him he had been telling me a 
lie, and that I was going to send 
him into the City . 1 This frightened 
him, and although it was only bluff 
on my part he confessed, in ex- 
change for a promise and a bribe, 
that it was all a make-up tale about 
the fugitive going over to Tung- 
kadoo and doubling back ; he had 
simply gone straight up to the 
French settlement by the first san- 
pan, not crossing the river at all. 
He said that he and the other san- 
panman both belonged to a secret 

1 Chinese criminals are dealt with either 
at the Mixed Court or sent to the native 
tribunal in the city of Shanghai, whose walls 
lie just beyond the foreign settlements. They 
naturally have the greatest dread of being 
delivered over to their own magistrates on 
account of the torture and the “squeezes” 
(bribes) exacted by the yamen runners 
(police). 


Gbe Sben '6 flM 0 tatl 


75 


society, and that the fugitive was 
one of their chiefs, and had ordered 
them to put the police off the scent. 

“ Thus it was I was getting on a hot 
scent. The rickshaw man must 
also have been acting under the 
secret society for telling me a lie 
in the first instance. This is the 
chief trouble with the Shanghai 
thieves ; they form themselves into 
societies and have their own mem- 
bers among the rickshaws and 
sanpans, who put us off the scent 
just when we think we have found 
the clue. 

“ To make a long story short, we 
collared our man with infinite 
trouble, by his sending a friend to 
reclaim the fan. No wonder he was 
so anxious about it : we followed 
the friend up to the tea-house and 
made a rush, and there was our 
culprit with the bottom of the fan- 
handle screwed off, drawing a little 
roll of paper from the hollowed 
ivory ; before we had time to pre- 
vent him he had held it over the 
opium lamp and burnt it. I was a 


76 


Cbe Sben’s pigtail 


fool not to think of examining that 
ivory fan-handle. However, we had 
our man ; not that he was much 
put out, for he put on the insolent 
air that none but a Chinese ‘ gradu- 
ate ’ can assume, and asked us what 
the devil we meant by invading his 
room ? These Chinese gentlemen 
have the haughty cheek of the 
biggest aristocrats in England. We 
said he would soon see what we 
meant, and carried him off, hand- 
cuffed, through a dangerous-looking 
crowd of servants and habitues of the 
shop. He denied having pawned 
anything at all ; and if it had been 
in England it is probable that he 
would have stuck to that while his 
friends prepared an alibi or bribed 
the witnesses who could identify 
him, and got off. Being in China, 
however, he was sent into the City 
and given a little thumbscrew and 
kneeling on chains, etc. ; then he 
confessed that a coolie had brought 
him the things and asked him to 
pawn them, keeping half the pro- 
ceeds ; and as he was hard up he 


tTbe Sben's flMgtaU 77 


had done so, and was willing to 
take the punishment of being con- 
cerned in the theft, though he did 
not know if they were stolen goods 
or not, nor who stole them. To 
this he stuck through thick and 
thin, though the magistrate ex- 
pected that he would confess sooner 
or later when he found that the 
only alternative was being slowly 
tortured to death. But he had n’t 
been in prison a week before he 
escaped along with the warder over 
him, while the three coolies who 
had put me off the scent disappeared 
at the same time ; proof conclusive 
that he was a member of a powerful 
secret society, with partisans in the 
yamen and the gaol. He has not 
left a trace behind him ; and that 
is the result of my investigations 
here. 

“ Yours, etc., 

“ Frank Paunch.” 


VII. 


M ONTHS rolled by, and the mur- 
der was not traced, nor the 
guns found ; but we had of 
course recovered the things pawned 
in Shanghai. But meanwhile a great 
event has happened in my life ; I 
had met Ayesha, the soul of a great 
conspiracy that was to free the em- 
pire from a Tartar dynasty and the 
natives from a barbarian and oppres- 
sive misgovernment, and open the 
road for civilisation, just law, equa- 
ble taxation, and unrestricted trade. 
Of these conspirators I became in 
some sort one ; I sympathised with 
their aims and promised them the 
help of my advice and purse, though 
at that time I meant to go no further. 
At length one day I was led to in- 
spect their secret cache of arms, in 
order to give some advice as how 
78 


Gbe ©ben’s 


79 


best to preserve them from rust, and 
what sort of ammunition would be 
required for them. I went ; and in 
a vault beneath the flagged floor of 
a dilapidated temple, many miles 
from Chinkiang, on the north of 
the river, I was shown a hetero- 
geneous pile of arms. There were 
horse-pistols, iron knives and spear- 
heads, navy cutlasses and sword- 
bayonets, muskets, flint carbines, 
sniders, a few Martinis, and 

“ Hallo ! A repeating-shot gun ? 
A Winchester ? A double-barrelled 
twelve-bore, by . . . by — ” it was 
a little rusty — ‘ by Westley Richards 
— why, man, this is mine ! ” 

The old Taoist priest, with his 
grey locks allowed to grow all over 
his head, who was showing me the 
cache, came and put his hand on my 
shoulder. 

“ It was yours, Mr. M ,” he 

said, impressively, in English ; “ but 
now it belongs to the society, to 
which you have devoted your life 
and possessions ! ” 

“ Great Scott ! ” 


I said, looking 


So Gbe Sben’s flMcffaU 

at him earnestly. “ It is the voice 
of the Shen ! ” 

He pulled off the grey locks — a 
wig — and stood before me with a 
shaven pate. 

I shrank back. 

“ Good heavens — the murdured 
priest ! ” 

He drew on another wig, right 
over the forehead to the eyebrows, 
with a small pigtail at the back ; 
then put on the yellow spectacles, 
the thick nippers of which exactly 
hid the rim of the wig. 

“ The Shen ! ” I cried. 

“ Sit down,” he said, “ while I tell 
you all about it. You are one of us 
now ; you have acquiesced in our in- 
evitable doctrine, that the end justi- 
fies the means. I was head of the 
Chinkiang branch ; I had promised 
the council to have a certain number 
of guns on a given day. Their in- 
spection was approaching, and I was 
still five short. My position was too 
dangerous to allow of buying them : 
I resolved to steal them. I was in- 


Gbe Sbett's 


81 


formed of your trip in Mr. Yang’s 
boat, not by your boy, but one of my 
sanpanmen spies on the foreshore, as 
you guessed at the time. Your boy 
was an inferior member of our so- 
ciety, it is true ; but he steadfastly 
refused to do anything to your hurt 
or loss. That is why I kidnapped 
him and examined him under the or- 
deal. I dreaded that, in his anger at 
seeing his master robbed, he should 
have betrayed me, or told you about 
the society, and ruined us all and our 
mighty project. Brave fellow ! He 
was faithful to us even then, even 
against your kindness ! Well, I was 
determined that there should be no 
miscarriage of the robbery ; I con- 
ducted it myself. It was my old 
trade, as I shall show you when I 
come to explain how it is that I, an 
official, have lost my queue. 

“ The priest was in my way ; he 
might have warned you, or after- 
wards identified me. He was 
silenced, his body stowed away ; 1 
became the priest, putting this wig, 
the workmanship of one of the 


82 


Gbe Sben's ipigtatl 


finest perruquiers in Hongkong, 
in my pocket. As the priest, I 
came aboard your boat and drank 
your wine, taking my notes the 
while. As soon as you were asleep 
we boarded you, and carried off the 
goods. We went ashore and walked, 
but only a few hundred yards ; our 
boat was moored behind you. It 
would have been impossible for us 
to have walked the fifteen miles to 
the mouth of the canal in time, 
even had we the strength. We 
had a boat worked by a hand-screw, 
and six sturdy boatmen to work it ; 
we sped down the canal at five miles 
an hour, in perfect silence. All the 
barriers were down ; the officers in 
charge of them had their official 
instructions to allow a Government 
boat to pass, and to deny the fact. 
I alone landed at Tantu and returned 
to Chinkiang on a pony that was 
waiting for me. The rest sped 
down the river and landed one man 
at the passenger station, then struck 
inland by the creeks on the north 
bank and brought the guns to this 


Cbe Sben's flMgtall 


83 


place. The clock and watches were 
taken .to Shanghai and at once de- 
livered to a member of the society, 
who pawned them at leisure, know- 
ing that I should allow no tele- 
graphic communication to anticipate 
him. He was arrested by a fatal 
mischance and the pertinacity of 
your Shanghai detectives ; but 
nothing could have wrung from 
him any betrayal of the society, 
and he knew help was at hand. He 
was a true son of the society. Such 
we never leave long in the hands of 
our enemies : he was rescued and 
sent to Hongkong. And now you 
would like to know how I lost my 
pigtail. Mine has been a strange 
career.” 

This was in brief the Shen's story 
of his life. At the age of twenty he 
had had the misfortune to be caught, 
with a score of other pirates, ten 
minutes after sinking a trading junk 
in the Hongkong waters. With the 
foolish chivalry of youth, he with- 
stood the torture with tightly closed 
lips, after having exhausted the asser- 


8 4 


Zhc Sben’s flMstafl 


tion that he was himself a prisoner 
of the pirates. This obstinacy, com- 
bined with the fact that he was the 
captain’s son and a first lieutenant, 
caused the judge to turn a deaf ear 
to his offers of information when he 
was led out by the executioner ; he 
then had the presence of mind to 
cry out that if he was spared he 
would reveal where a thousand taels 
of pure sycea, belonging to his father, 
was hidden. He was strapped up 
in a kneeling posture like the rest 
and placed at the end of the line, 
and had the sufficiently trying 
ordeal of watching the slow ap- 
proach of the executioner as he 
lopped off the bowed heads ; the 
man immediately next to Yoo 
fainted and fell forward (they do 
not use a block), which caused the 
executioner much annoyance, as his 
arm was getting tired. Apparently 
fearing a repetition of his foolishness, 
which required two or three hacks 
instead of one, a stool was brought 
and the assistant unwound Yoo’s 
pigtail and held it stretched over 


Gbe ©ben’s pigtail 


85 


the stool. The sword came down ; 
but instead of on the nape of the 
neck, it descended on the pigtail a 
quarter of an inch from his cranium, 
so that he rose minus a twenty 
years’ growth of hair, instead of a 
twenty years’ growth of cerebral 
matter. Yoo looked round with a 
timid, deprecating smile as much 
as to say that he didn’t mean 
to duck, and bent his head again ; 
he was, however, told, with a laugh, 
to get up and lead the way to the 
treasure. This he did satisfactorily, 
much to the delight of the magis- 
trate, who had him thumbscrewed, 
twice a week, with many pleasant 
aphorisms about the goose and the 
golden eggs, and the reward of 
virtue. A common English sailor 
who had witnessed the execution, 
and uttered strange oaths when the 
young man was spared, chanced to 
be rioting up the Canton City with 
half a dozen drunken fellow-tars, 
and got up a fight with several 
thousand Chinamen. A runner 
persuaded them to follow him to 


86 


Gbe Sben's flMatail 


the magistrate’s yamen for refuge : 
and at the moment they staggered 
into the court young Yoo was be- 
seeching for a moment’s rest from 
the torture. Jack no sooner recog- 
nised the youthful pirate, than, 
shouting to his comrades, he sallied 
in and upset the screw-drivers, 
threw the lad over his shoulder, 
and sallied out. The crowd at once 
changed sides, applauded, and 
screened the tars down to the 
water’s edge ; and they managed to 
save their man. Yoo was rigged 
out from the slop chest, and let his 
hair grow over his head, but never 
cultivated a pigtail again. 

Yoo learnt may things from 
that episode in his life, and kept 
them locked in his breast. One 
was that if a bribe would win a life, 
bribes would win an official position. 
Picking up English and Portuguese 
with remarkable skill, he joined the 
Macao police force, and afterwards 
obtained the position of a detective 
in the Hongkong police, where he 
was known as Chinaman Jack. 


Ebe Sben's pigtail 


87 


Here at length he had found his 
true sphere in life, and his skill and 
success astounded his chiefs. For 
you must know that Hongkong is 
a greater hotbed of desperadoes 
than any other city of the earth. 
Yoo’s fortune was his face and his 
invisible pigtail. From a smooth, 
ruddy cheeked, free-limbed, boasting 
lad, he had come out of that ordeal 
with a shrivelled parchment face 
like that depicted in the wax effigies 
of the lamented genius, Mr. Peace, 
defunct, which enabled him to con- 
tort his features beyond recognition. 
His shaven head and wrinkled fore- 
head admitted a skin covering 
which carried a pigtail beyond 
detection, for ordinary occasions, 
while without it he had a passport 
to the haunts of vice, either as an 
ex-convict or a Buddhist priest. He 
proved himself a simply invaluable 
coadjutor to the European police, 
to whom his doings were as un- 
fathomable as to his victims ; and, 
I will not say how, he rapidly 
amassed a fortune. He then went 


88 


Gbe Sben'8 pigtail 


to Shanghai, the language of which 
he had picked up as he did English, 
and with unwearying tact purchased 
grade after grade until we find him 
here a cheh-hsien, or borough 
magistrate, with the highest reputa- 
tion in the province. It goes with- 
out saying that his compeers are 
ignorant of the school where he 
learnt detection. 

The feelings and motives hidden 
behind that inscrutable, shrivelled 
mask — what are they ? Or is it an 
automaton out of which all feeling 
has been killed at a blow ? 

“ And remember, Mr. M ,” 

concluded the Shen in a threatening 
voice, “ you are one of us ! What 
is done in the name of the society is 
done for the Great Cause ! ” 

At this moment Ayesha entered, 
she for love of whom I was to com- 
mit a greater crime than this tacit 
acquiescence, and lose more than a 
gun. 




A LITTLE CHINESE PARTY 




89 



A LITTLE CHINESE PARTY. 


I FOUND myself in the entrance 
hall of a Kungkuan, or private 
residence ; the usual side bench- 
es (which reminded me of the 
Army and Navy Stores, where the 
footmen wait with their mistress’ 
dogs), and the large round paper 
lantern with the gentleman’s name 
in red letters. Beyond this was 
the courtyard, with small rockeries 
and handsome large blue-and-white 
flower-pots holding dwarf trees and 
flowers ; then a paved balcony with 
wooden pillars, and then the recep- 
tion room ; light showed through 
the chinks of the panels, which 
were closed, it being winter. No 
one had heard the fracas of my en- 
trance, so I went round to the side 


9 2 


B Xlttle Chinese partg 


buildings and called out, “ Is any- 
one here ? ” An elderly servant 
came out, and started on seeing a 
foreigner ; but he felt reassured when 
I spoke his language. “ Kindly ask 
your master to see me a moment,” I 
said ; “ I have important business.” 
At the same time I gave him my 
Chinese card, which I always take 
the precaution to carry, bearing 
my name, “ Mai-i-sheng,” and the 
occupation (of which one ’s apt to 
be a little proud, among Chinese), 
“ Chinkiang Foreign Customs.” 
In a short time a kindly looking 
gentleman came out, and saluted 
me silently, but with a somewhat 
anxious air. 

“ Sir,” I said, “ I do wrong thus 
to enter your house, a stranger to 
you. I came from Chinkiang to- 
day with a friend in his boat. I 
have been walking through the 
streets buying curios, and on my 
way back missed the road, and 
wandered down this street. I was 
attacked by some thieves opposite 
your noble house, and, on leaning 


B Xtttle Cblneee fl>art£ 93 


against the door, it fell open and 
I took refuge within. Since you 
must wish to have some proof of 
who I am, I beg you to look at 
this cheque given me by Mr. Chang 
on Mr. Li, a banker in this city. If 
it satisfies you, I will ask you to 
send your servant with me to some 
good inn, as I fear my friend will 
have to return to Chinkiang with- 
out me.” 

He looked at the cheque, and, 
handing it back to me, again saluted 
me, but this time with a beaming 
countenance. 

“ I am Mr. Li,” he said ; “ and if 
you will accept my humble hospi- 
tality to-night, it will be an honour 
to me. It just happens that I have 
some friends with me, and we shall 
have a pleasant dinner.” Where- 
upon he gave some directions to his 
servant, and, asking to be excused 
for a moment to advise his friends, 
left me in one of the side rooms, 
where the servant had brought a 
cup of tea. I took off my over-suit, 
put on my smoking-cap of black 


94 


B untie Chinese ipattg 


satin, took a little scent from my 
pocket-bottle, and wiped my face 
with the steaming cloth the man 
brought me — a most refreshing 
custom of the Chinese, but a dan- 
gerous conveyor, they say, of eye 
diseases. Then my host ushered 
me into the reception room ; I 
noticed he was evidently pleased 
with my appearance. I was thank- 
ful for the little precautions that 
experience had taught me. Al- 
though I was far from home, had 
come a long walk, and had just 
undergone a rough - and - tumble 
struggle and a sprawl in the mud, 
here I was, unexpectedly introduced 
into a private house where three 
or four silk-clad gentlemen were 
assembled in dainty leisure, able 
to appear equally well dressed and 
clean. These will seem very vain 
and frivolous recollections ; but they 
are not so. Instead of being, as 
Englishmen pretend to think, of 
no importance, personal appearance 
and dress is everything on a first 
introduction among Chinese, as any- 


B OLtttle Chinese fl>artg 95 


where else in the world. I recollect 
on previous occasions that I had 
come to Yangchow, with my trap- 
pings on board the houseboat, and 
prepared for a visit to some native 
gentlemen, I had gone in my shoot- 
ing clothes and boots, old, clumsy, 
and begrimed ; and coming into 
company with a dozen gentleman in 
their nice new silks, spotless stock- 
ings, and clean hands, had at once 
felt myself at a disadvantage, and 
therefore ill at ease and borish. 

The reception room was a large, 
sombre place, its black and white 
unrelieved by any hangings or 
colour other than the pale-tinted 
scrolls of the seasons. The floor 
was black tile, and the walls, mostly 
consisting of dark trellised wood- 
work, covered with paper ; the blank 
spaces were whitewashed. Opposite 
the door was a large table, on which 
stood an old English clock, three 
quarters of an hour wrong, a pair 
of large vases, and candlesticks. On 
either side was the uncomfortable 
row of straightbacked wooden chairs 


96 H Xtttle Gbtnese parts 


with teapoys between each two. In 
one corner was the only sign of 
comfort, the opium divan, covered 
with red cloth, standing on a raised 
dais ; a flat wooden bed, with big 
bolsters for the head, and the opium- 
tray, with its night-light, in the 
middle. There were two iron trays 
standing on tripods, containing a 
“ fire ” of smouldering charcoal-dust 
balls, raised pyramidically. From 
the black-raftered ceiling hung half 
a dozen large square lanterns of 
glass, with the usual flowers painted 
on the glass and beaded tassels hang- 
ing from the four corners ; but the 
room was lighted by two foreign 
hanging lamps. The only life to 
this dull and formal frame was in the 
centre of the room, where stood a 
square table on which were small 
piles of dollars and long ivory 
“ cards ” ; by the side of each chair 
was a small table holding more cards 
in a dice-box, a candlestick, and a 
water-pipe. My host’s three guests 
pushed their chairs back as I entered 
and stood up. I exchanged a silent 


B Xittlc Chinese fl>art£ 97 


salute of raised folded hands to each, 
and then sat down to the cup of tea 
that was brought round. My host 
sat on the other side of the little 
table between us ; the other guests sat 
opposite at a distance of a dozen 
feet. 

Nothing can be conceived more 
uncomfortable than a Chinese draw- 
ing-room. The only excuse for the 
cold monotony of the furniture is 
that it acts as a splendid contrast to 
the padded brilliance of their attire. 
But the check to cordiality is in the 
arrangement of chairs. One always 
feels inclined to pull it round so 
that you can more or less face the 
man next to you ; but they are not 
so easily shifted, being hemmed in 
by a chair or a table on either side. 
And then fancy talking with a man 
sitting bolt upright about half a mile 
opposite ! 

There were plenty of subjects of 
conversation, and I found these men 
very well informed on current 
topics. There had been a piracy 
on the Namoa, near Hongkong, 
7 


93 a OLittle Gbinese ipart£ 


which introduced interesting and 
sensible views on the methods of 
justice of the two countries ; and 
though you don’t flatter a Chinaman 
as a rule when you praise his laws, 
I mention my conviction that the 
summary execution on ill-substantial 
suspicion is perhaps the most prac- 
tical way of suppressing piracy, since 
the fact of any connection with law- 
lessness may condemn a man ; he is 
not to get off scot-free by a mere alibi. 
They returned the compliment by 
praise of the astonishing painstaking 
and leniency of our judges, which 
was a proof that at home we must be 
marvellously “ reasonable ” people ; 
but they owned it was somewhat out 
of place with unscrupulous ruffians. 
But what was still a matter of first- 
hand and exciting news was the 
burning of the ss. Shanghai , on 
Christmas Day, when three or four 
hundred Chinese passengers had 
been burnt to death, though the 
vessel was run into the river bank, 
and there were numerous boats 
about. A salt official of Yang- 


B Xittle Chinese fl>art£ 99 


chow, newly appointed to the HSien- 
ship of Ichang, was among the 
dead ; he was among my host’s inti- 
mate acquaintances. “ He would not 
have lived long, anyhow,” was his 
callous comment, “ for he was eaten 
up with disease.” 

Meanwhile servants had removed 
the card-table and replaced it with 
a round one, on which little dishes 
began to appear, and silver-tipped 
oblong chopsticks, with dainty little 
silver forks, were laid out. Oh, that 
they would take to a tablecloth ! 
I must say a meal loses half its charm 
without it ; and yet it would scarcely 
be suitable fora Chinese dinner-table, 
on which drops of gravy and bits of 
food are continually spilt. 

Talk of the restaurants and amuse- 
ments of Shanghai, which some of 
these gentlemen had visited and 
found a very dream of indulgence 
( and expense ), suggested something 
to my host. “ Ah,” he cried, “ but 
we must have the little ladies ! — eh, 
shall we?” To which I replied that I 
had heard the fame of the damsels 


ioo a Xittle Chinese parts 


of Yangchow, and should like to see 
them, if they would not be afraid of 
a foreigner. He immediately wrote 
the names of four on slips of paper, 
and sent his servant off with the order. 
This seems to be the only idea of 
female society they have : hired pup- 
pets, to waddle in on their little feet, 
pull things about, light an opium 
pipe, and play off their little coquet- 
ries ; sing a song and twang a guitar, 
and waddle off again. There is noth- 
ing naughty in all this, and it is often 
slow enough, for which they are paid 
a regular price per head ( $2 hire ), 
like any other performer. It must 
not be supposed, however, that 
woman is not woman because her feet 
are stumps and she is a round ball of 
wadded clothes, with her complexion 
smothered in paint and her hair 
stiffened with oils. There are cour- 
tesans who can read man like their 
sisters, and gain the ascendancy over 
the fancies even of a selfish and 
blase Chinaman. They receive gifts 
of the most costly robes and orna- 
ments, and perhaps not unfrequently 


% Xtttle Chinese parts ioi 


guide the counsels of high officials. 
But at first sight they strike a for- 
eigner as a most wearisome puppet- 
show. 

In they trooped, one after the 
other, with little screams of delight, 
and ran at our host or stood de- 
murely near the door with their 
attendants. They were dressed mag- 
nificently, in silks of blue and pink 
and green, with varied borders ; and 
highly ornamented caps, and shoes, 
and trousers. One was a tall, stately 
girl, with features as regular as an 
English beauty, who was evidently 
an old friend of the host ; two were 
stupid and shy ; allotted to me, for 
her saucy way of meeting my inqui- 
ries, was one named Kuei-hsiang. 
She certainly was a charming little 
coquette, and evidently a favourite 
with all ; and I won her favour by 
an absence of empressement or sur- 
prise. No one would imagine that 
they would believe in a glance of 
admiration, these poor little toys 
paid by the hour, and blunted by 
the coarse compliments of men whose 


io2 & Xfttle Chinese parts 


pride it is to be sceptically callous, 
and too selfish to bestow any delicacy 
of attention on one who is paid to 
amuse them. But I think her 
woman’s nature reasserted itself when 
brought into contact with a person 
of totally different ideas ; I daresay 
I flattered her. 

At length the centre dish was 
borne, smoking, in, and our host 
invited us to sit down, the damsels 
sitting slightly behind us. I had an 
excellent appetite after all my exer- 
cise and excitement, and feeling 
absolutely “ irresponsible,” was pre- 
pared to enjoy myself. While the 
others dallied with shark’s fins or the 
intermediary melon seed, I furtively 
attacked cold duck, cold chicken, 
and ham, to get a solid foundation 
for the main dishes, which seemed 
to evaporate in my palate. I was 
fairly successful with the sticks, ex- 
cept for a certain delightful dish of 
what seemed like snails ; they were 
so soft that they fell in half just as I 
had got hold of them. As our 
ardour slackened off with satiety, we 


B ^Little Chinese parts 103 


attacked the wine, which was con- 
tained in lead kettles in an outer 
kettle of hot water ; the porcelain 
wine-cups likewise resting in a hot- 
water frame. It was a light, ex- 
hilarating sort of sherry, and went 
excellently well with the style of 
food. We had now been two hours 
or more over the feast, and I had 
honestly out-drunk every man at 
the table. Then my host rallied, 
and said we would have the final 
test cup. My little mentor pulled 
my sleeve and implored me not to 
take any more ; and when the ser- 
vants brought the large cups, treble 
the ordinary capacity, she took it 
up with the intention of drinking it 
herself. But as every one cried out 
that it was not fair, I was obliged 
to drain it off, and turned it in 
triumph bottom upwards. The others 
struggled with it, gurgled, and laid 
it down. I immediately felt the 
effects : things danced before my 
eyes, and the room spun slowly round. 
I clasped her little hand and held it 
tight for a minute while I struggled 


io4 B Uittle Chinese parts 


to get hold of my escaped senses. 
Things gradually resumed their nor- 
mal stability, though they seemed to 
be somewhat duplicated ; and when 
I had tackled the closing bowl of 
rice the dizziness had passed off. 
Now we pushed our chairs out and, 
unobserved, I got one of my cigars 
into my mouth and was happy. A 
good cigar is better after a Chinese 
dinner than any other, in my mind ; 
and not to have one is to take off 
half the pleasure of the feast. Yiieh- 
hsien, our host’s favourite, was now 
going through a little sort of dance 
with melancholy grace ; it consists 
of bends and undulations of the 
body, and languid wavings of the 
hands, ‘all on the same spot, except 
for a step backwards now and then. 
When she finished I gave her, out of 
compliment to Mr. Li, a little chalce- 
dony ornament that I had picked 
up in the curio shops during the 
afternoon, which she received with 
dignified condescension. The other 
girls rushed at her, seized it, and 
passed it round from one to the 


B Xittle Chinese ipartg 105 


other with cries of admiration — 
except Kuei-hsiang. This interest- 
ing maiden darted at me a pretty- 
glance of anger, pouted, and refused 
to look at it. We then had an ear- 
splitting song or two from the other 
two, to which, to show my acquaint- 
ance with etiquette, I paid no atten- 
tion, but puffed lazily at my cigar. 
When they pressed my little com- 
panion to perform, she refused 
pettishly, saying, “ I don’t want any 
of the foreigner’s presents ! Yiieh- 
hsien can sing again if she likes.” 
Our host frowned (which was 
equivalent to a command) ; she 
only pouted the more. I got 
possession of her little hand, 
and joined in their entreaties. She 
pretended not to hear ; then, rip- 
pling into a coquettish smile, with a 
sparkling glance from her dancing 
brown eyes, she whipped my hand- 
kerchief from my pocket, and com- 
menced a dainty dance on tip-toe, 
swaying her body backwards and 
forwards, bowing backwards beneath 
the handkerchief held over her head 


io6 B Xlttle Cblncsc parts 


with two hands, sinking slowly down, 
then leaping forward and standing 
still, in attitude. Every one ap- 
plauded, while her eye-play during 
the pas captivated me quite : dimpled 
and rippling smiles and glances, then 
long lashes shyly to the ground, then 
uplifted devotionally, and then a 
sidelong look of demure mock- 
modesty. And now, accompanied 
by a lesser star on the pi-pa , she 
broke into a song that quite aston- 
ished me : a plaintive little melody, 
that suddenly leapt from grave to 
gay as the second guitar struck in. 
Every now and then she broke off 
and swayed her body on one foot 
and the other to the twang of the 
strings ; and again, as the song 
seemed dying away, the other voices 
would pick up the refrain. At length 
she undulated forward and, with a 
low obeisance, presented me my 
handkerchief with both hands ; then 
sank slightly panting into her chair. 
Then I gave her the watch, which, 
alas, poor girl ! was to be her ruin. 


B Xtttle Chinese party 107 


I suppose now a word at least of 
apology is expected for these flagrant 
departures from orthodox views. 
To enjoy a Chinese dinner ! To 
admire a Chinese melody ! And 
finally to fall in love with a Chinese 
sing-song girl ! It is awful ! No ; 
I ’m not even going to say that I have 
a hankering after strange dishes, that 
I was (in those days) a sentimental 
youth who fell in love with every 
pretty face he saw, and that the 
wine had got into my head ; but 
out of mere contrariety will uphold 
that a good Chinese dinner is the 
most rtcherchd thing in the world, 
that a Chinese gentleman is the most 
perfect and polished host that you 
could wish for, that a small foot is 
no more deformity than a high heel, 
that the absence of stays does not 
necessarily take away from a woman’s 
grace, that a loose sack gives as 
much play to the fancy as a tight- 
laced bodice, that a coquette is a 
coquette all the world over (which 
means she ’s the most charming play- 


io8 b Xtttle Chinese ipartg 


thing that was ever created), and 
that a Chinese song — no ; I will 
draw the line at a Chinese song. 
The one I heard must be indulgently 
put down as exceptional. 

At length the amahs came for their 
babes, they donned yet a twenty-first 
coat, and, after an oft-practised 
coquettishness of partings, left ; but 
Kuei-hsiang ran back and whispered 
to our host. He whispered to the 
others : they whispered to each other ; 
and I whispered, only loudly, “Cer- 
tainly ! the night is young.” So 
shortly after we too went out. I 
wisely abstained from the finishing 
cup of Kaoliang that they took to 
clear their brains ; in my experience 
the art of mixing is in leaving well 
alone. We wandered a little way 
down the street, and entered a 
neighbouring house, where a young 
fellow of wealth and blase appearance 
had managed to see several of his 
guests under the table ; and, after a 
chat and a smoke, issued forth again 
with him and those of his guests 


B Xtttle Chinese ipartg 109 


who had legs under them, until we 
reached a little door, where we were 
evidently expected. What a babel 
and brilliant confusion there was in 
that diminutive room, with its bright 
foreign wall-paper and cheap hang- 
ing lamp ! The little mousnis , balls 
of bright silks, running about on 
their stumps and clutching hold of 
their particular friends, who remained 
calm and unamused as ever ; the 
old keepers of the house stumping 
about with tea and pipes ; the elder 
men quietly sitting down and pater- 
nally pinching the maiden on their 
knee who filled and lighted the pipe ; 
the younger me?i languidly reclining 
on opium beds and wearily taking a 
whiff, Mas/, as well they might be, to 
the dreary coquetries that custom 
and payment have rendered devoid of 
all semblance of sentiment, whose 
badinage consists in nothing more 
playful than unpleasant puns. 

A little hand pulled me by the 
sleeve ; a sparkling eye and cherry 
lips allured me hardly noticed 
through the crowd, until I found my- 


IIO 


a Xlttle Chinese parts 


self reclining back on the bed at the 
far end of the room in the shade of 
its curtains. What with fatigue, ex- 
citement, satiety, and wine, and the 
fumes from the pipe that my host 
was smoking on the other side of 
the tray, I was in a sleepy, voluptu- 
ous state of vagueness and imbecil- 
ity ; I had but a dim consciousness 
of colours flitting to and fro, men’s 
forms moving round as in a stately 
dance, and was of course utterly in- 
capable of active volition. In other 
words, as soon as my head touched 
a pillow — I must apologise, and own 
I found myself to be inebriated. I 
was not aware of Mr. Li giving up 
his place to Kuei-hsiang, and his sur- 
prised-confidential “ she likes you ! ” 
struck on my ears like a voice in a 
dream. Nor did I realise the grad- 
ual thinning of the room, the little 
mousnis mounting the dais to have 
a peep at the foreigner, the voice of 
Kuei-hsiang commanding them to 
be off. I puffed mechanically at the 
twelve-bore ivory mouthpiece that 
was put against my lips, sucking in 


% TLitti e Chinese Hearts m 


with nostrils and throat the insidious, 
pleasant poison. If for a moment I 
dreamily lifted my heavy eyelids, it 
was to see and faintly smile to a dark 
and tender glance, and a rosy mouth, 
and a white, rounded arm from a 
a gloom of silken sleeves. The syrup 
singes over the little lamp ; the shad- 
ows softly close around ; a little 
hand emerges to mould it in the 
needle, and disappears ; the heavy 
fumes, laden with subtle, mysterious 
odour, slowly spread themselves over- 
head into a canopy of blackness, out 
of whose clouds vast forms of omi- 
nous genii grin down. The needle’s 
end splutters : the glow-worm light 
gets paler and paler ; then flickers, 
and goes out. . . . 





THE GENERAL 



THE GENERAL 


1 WAS reading some Embassy rem- 
iniscences of Constantinople in, 
I think, Temple Bar , when I 
came across a delicious anecdote of 
the French Minister shocking the 
English ambassador with a naughty 
apropos. This little scene struck me 
at once ; it was my friend the Gen- 
eral and the objectionable English 
Consul brought before my recollec- 
tion again to the life. The General 
(so we called him, for he had held a 
command in the war between North 
and South, and we were afraid of 
putting it too low ; he having been 
on the wrong side we could not au- 
thenticate it in the official victorious 
list : “ I, sir, was a rebel ! ”) — the 
the General had much of the French 


n6 


Gbe General 


characteristic in him ; much of the 
insouciance , the bonhomie , the cheva- 
lier , that so marks the south in all 
climes. He was a Virginian ; and 
a living type he was of all that has 
been handed down to us of most 
lovable, most gay, most generous, 
most courteous and chivalrous of 
that race of America’s nobility, the 
slave-holding country gentleman. 

But with it he inherited in happy 
obviousness that entirely national 
characteristic that marks the Ameri- 
can everywhere in complete distinc- 
tion from an English gentleman — 
brag. And let me not be thought 
to uphold one grain of superiority 
to the Englishman for his lack of it. 
It is simply a national habit ; as a 
personal characteristic the loudest 
American is simplicity and unaffect- 
edness by the side of many a cor- 
rect English gentleman’s suppressed 
bumptiousness and conceit. It is a 
splendid habit ; it is honest. For an 
English gentleman it is, by cen- 
turies of education, impossible ; and 
it often affords the most delightful 


Gbe General 


117 


amusement to observe the agonised 
expression of disdaining to resort to 
such vulgarities on the face of the 
latter when he is being made to look 
small, talked down, and sat upon, by 
his colleague’s grandiose, shameless, 
unaffected brag. To prevent a mis- 
conception of my meaning by the 
term, I will give an instance ; in this 
case it was “ bluff.” There had been 
a riot ; consulates’ and citizens’ 
houses had been looted and burnt 
by a Chinese mob. The native au- 
thorities very rightly, and as usual, 
disputed the compensation claims 
item by item, and in the whole, with 
the usual subterfuges and cuncta- 
tions. It was a British concession ; 
there was only one American firm. 
The British Consulate, a fine, big, 
new building, had been burnt to the 
ground with everything in it ; the 
American Consulate, a diminutive, 
hired house, had only been very im- 
perceptibly looted. But the mission- 
aries, who had suffered considerably, 
were mostly American. In any case, 
the American claim was no trifle. 


n8 


Zbc General 


The British claims were subjected to 
the humiliation of a personal official 
interrogation of each individual 
claimant by a Chinese interpreter 
(the same, I believe, whom the British 
Consul-General in Shanghai refused 
to meet three years afterwards for 
being an embezzling defaulter from 
Hongkong) acting on behalf of the 
native Governor-General, with Her 
Majesty’s British Consul sitting by 
without remonstrance while British 
merchants were asked sarcastically 
what they meant in describing them- 
selves as gentlemen. The British 
claims, I say, were insultingly filtered 
through this court and postponed and 
postponed. The American claims 
were paid promptly and without de- 
mur. What was this due to, that 
England, whose Government-built 
Consulate was burnt, and bayonet- 
won Concession derisively given over 
to a three dsfys’ loot, should be hu- 
miliated and put off like a little trib- 
utary country, while America, who 
had no interests in the place, and 
has never shown a bayonet or a 


Cbe General 


19 


fightable war-vessel on its coast, 
should be served with respectful, 
unquestioning promptness ? Bluff, 
and the absence of it in our delicately 
educated representatives. The Gen- 
eral refused to allow his nationals’ 
claims to be overhauled by the Chi- 
nese authorities. He, the American 
Consul, had overhauled them, cut 
them down, and guaranteed them. 
The fact that he, the representative 
of the United States, handed them in, 
was sufficient guarantee and proof 
of their reasonableness and truth. 
There was his claim, in one total ; 
they would question it, or refuse it, 
at their peril. “ You, sir, are the 
Tao-tai ; I,” with his outstretched 
arm brought on to his breast, and 
eagle head thrown back — “ I — am 
the American Consul ! ” The British 
Consul, who was present at the inter- 
view, himself described it to us, ridi- 
culing it. The impressive way of 
standing martially up, the piercing 
fixed eye under blackly bent eye- 
brows, the long pause of silent, un- 
wavering, frowning regard, till the 


120 


Gbe General 


poor Tao-tai shook in his boots and 
expected a revolver about to be 
drawn at his head, then the arm slowly 
outstretched, and the pompous, 
solemn, meaningless adjuration : 
“ You, sir, are the Tao-tai ! ” All this 
he had witnessed with contempt, ut- 
terly unable to imitate it ; and it was 
this bit of bluff that upheld America’s 
honour while we sat by helplessly 
because we could not deign to threat- 
en where we had no distinct orders 
from home, and did not intend to 
carry out our threats. Very proper 
and conscientious is this honesty of 
non-self-assertion, but utterly mis- 
placed. The General had just as 
much modesty as his colleague, but 
he was a diplomatist. He knew the 
right way of dealing with Asiatics. 
He knew that what was required was 
bluff. He gave them bluff, with the 
perfection and advantage of its being 
a national practice. 

It was always the same on every 
occasion of dealings with the natives. 
The General always got his way at 
once ; always made everything go 


Gbe General 


121 


to the glory of the United States, 
while England was despised. Mer- 
chants and road secretaries watched 
for the opportunity when their own 
Consul ran down to Shanghai for a 
week and left his business to his 
colleague. There was a rush made 
at once : a hundred petty affairs 
that required the assent, or inter- 
ference, of the local authorities, and 
had been dragging on for months 
simply from the native practice of 
refusing and postponing everything 
that is not firmly insisted on — in 
other words, everything presented 
by the feeble British Consul — were 
put through in a day. He made a 
splendid Consul, did the General ; 
with no other resources than the 
rumour of an antiquated, two-knot, 
paddle-wheel gunboat, he filled the 
native mind with the utmost respect 
and admiration for his country’s 
prestige, while England, with its 
fleet of continually passing modern 
war-vessels and enormous prepon- 
derance of trade, saw its prestige 
dwindled away and become an ob- 


122 


Cbe General 


ject of ridicule, simply for want 
of bluff. 

Bluff is the power of using prestige. 
It is one of the highest branches 
of diplomacy — Palmerstonian diplo- 
macy. Prestige itself is nothing else. 
When you have knocked a man down 
once it is an easy thing to lift your 
fist and threaten to do it again ; you 
have only got to look as strong-armed 
as you were when you did it. We 
look much stronger, and we threaten, 
only we forget to raise our fist ; we 
have n’t. the simple pluck for that. 
When you have never knocked a 
man down it is still possible to look 
so formidable as to make your oppo- 
nent think you strong — a much more 
difficult feat of bluff, and this the 
American Consul does without any 
show of strength at all. And yet 
bluff is not so easy as to be despised 
on that account. Bluff requires a deal 
of tact, especially of the latter descrip- 
tion ; it is, in fact, not too easy, but 
too difficult, for the average British 
Consul. The General combined the 
most exquisite tact with his bluff. 


Gbe General 


123 


In short, where the American 
diplomatist has the lead of us, with 
Asiatics, is in not being tied down 
by antiquated legends of respecta- 
bility. It may not be the thing in 
European courts — one may recollect 
the conduct of the United States 
representative at Constantinople and 
the “ Bulgarian Atrocities ” — but it 
is the right thing at Peking. In- 
stead of a verbose, drawing-room, 
polite and courteous Foreign Office 
legend minister, we want a seven- 
foot, roman-nosed, lantern-jawed col- 
onel, who looks iron and thunder 
without a word. Now I give that 
description, Colonel, with the highest 
respect, but you ’re not a man to 
require mealy-mouthed epithets, so 
I have used the word that gives 
the impression pithily. A Chinese 
diplomatist is beginning to find in 
Englishmen the very type that he is 
used to, without the subtlety ; so he 
knows his game and wins. But in 
United States representatives he has 
to deal with harder stuff that terrifies 
him. He is expending his wiles on 


124 


Zbe General 


an iron- jawed horse, and gives up at 
once. The Americans have become 
Palmerstons and we Chinese. 

The General was the soul of hon- 
our and courtesy ; that is the more 
reason why I should finish off his 
Americanisms before I describe his 
ordinary self. He loved to use that 
bluffing “ fixing with the eye ” at the 
club bar. He had a watery eye now, 
and a hand that shook, but the 
thundering frown that the fine eye- 
brows could assume, the fiery expan- 
sion of the small, delicate nostrils, 
the martial tendency of the white 
moustache, and the impregnable 
firmness of the small, tufted chin, 
gave him so inexorable and ferocious 
an air that you succumbed inevitably 
before the eagle glance and com- 
manding arm, and were “ fixed with 
the power of his eye.” Not once or 
twice have I seen half a dozen of us 
at eight o’clock, when a game of pyra- 
mids had dragged out and we were 
late for dinner or engagements, and 
on the point of rushing off, arrested 
by the outstretched arm and the 


tTbe General 


125 


“ Hold on, gentlemen ; hold on !” 
of the General, who was spinning a 
yarn. Impervious to the impatience 
of his audience, he would, with the 
utmost relish, roll out the description, 
for the eighth time, of his yearly trip 
to Japan, and the princesses, “lithe, 
young, svelte,” that had stooped to 
untie his boots. “ A dream, sir, a 
dream ! Ten thousand coloured 
lanterns hung round the shores, and 
escorted by the Prince of Kama- 
goochi in his own private yacht ! 
When I retired to my chamber that 
night, sir, in the palace, I heard a 
sound behind me. I turned ; it 
was Yuchisdma. ‘Princess,’ I ex- 
claimed ” (breaking into one of his 
charming smiles) — “ ‘ Princess, what 
is the meaning of this?’ She sank 
on one knee and kissed my hand ; 
lithe, sir, young, svelte, like a beau- 
tiful willow bending its weeping 
tresses over the babble of a shady 
brook ! ” 

The General had a charming 
poetic fancy, and endowed his ad- 
ventures with the glamour of fairy 


126 


TTbe General 


tales ; and then, utterly regardless 
of his hearer’s appreciation, devolved 
them in rounded periods for his own 
practice and amusement. But it 
was wonderful how he would keep 
us there against our wills, not inter- 
ested, not listening, for we had heard 
it before, impatient, for we were 
hungry and dinner was getting cold, 
while he perfected his manner of 
recounting on our corpus-viles. 

But do not think that because we 
did not listen that his anecdotes 
were flat. The General was a poet ; 
his stories and descriptions were too 
good for the casual crowd at the 
club bar. Those hearers would cry 
out on him for inventing, for exag- 
gerating. Why, who wants bald 
facts ? the very province of the artist 
is embellishing, idealising. The 
General was an artist, the General 
was a poet. 

As a matter of fact he had little 
need for inventing his experiences 
of Japan. He had been Consul 
there for some years, and so genial, 
sunny, chivalrous, poetic a soul could 


Zb e (Beneral 


127 


not fail to be idolised amongst the 
most sunny, the most chivalrous, the 
most poetic nation in the world. 
The General had friends among the 
native grandees in a friendship that 
would be accorded to but few white 
men ; he was popular with the com- 
mon people wherever he went. He 
was popular even with the Chinese 
officials, utterly lacking in sun and 
chivalry. They admired and re- 
spected a man who could be so firm 
and peremptory when he wanted any- 
thing, so genial and bon-gar$on when 
the business was off. He never 
deigned to learn the native language, 
and here he had a great advantage 
over his British colleagues. The 
British Consul invariably tries to con- 
verse with the native officials in their 
own language, and consequently 
makes an egregious ass of himself ; 
for the conversational language is 
full of stumbling-blocks and Eastern 
idioms that require years of daily 
practice to pick up, and Europeans 
never get any practice in conversa- 
tion. They converse, it is true, with 


128 


X £ be General 


their servants and teachers, but 
these turn their idioms into an 
English garb to make them intelli- 
gible. Perhaps he may pick up the 
coolie talk correctly, as far as it 
goes. A Chinese gentleman has 
the deepest pride in the intricacies 
and periphrases of his own language, 
and a quick sense of the ridiculous ; 
and continually, as I know from un- 
witting avowals, the grave and 
polished official, who listens so seri- 
ously to his English visitor’s efforts, 
is ridiculing him in his sleeve the 
while. Only one or two Englishmen 
in the whole of China are able to 
converse idiomatically without a 
deal of concentration on the words 
their lips are shaping, and in most 
interviews the Consul has to think 
more of the substance than manner 
of his talk. I have heard two offi- 
cials, immediately after the visit of a 
consul who is supposed to be partic- 
ularly good in the spoken language, 
chuckling consumedly, though not 
without ill-nature, over some expres- 
sions that he had used in sublime 


trbe General 


I2g 


unconsciousness of their double-en- 
tendre. The General, on the con- 
trary, addressed them in what he 
knew best, his own language, and 
then turned to his interpreter. There 
was little need for interpretation ; 
the General’s manner, his smile or 
his frown, spoke his meaning more 
intelligibly than words. 

And when he did wish to be dis- 
agreeable he was very national. 
The General hated Shirt — as we all 
did. But unfortunately Shirt was 
left in charge, and the General 
wanted certain yellow books and 
statistics. The General had that 
supreme art of a head of department 
of laying every one under contribu- 
tion. There is often an outcry on 
the part of those used — there was of 
Sir Richard Temple in India ; people 
say it is a very easy way of earning 
fame to sit still and make your 
underlings work like slaves, and 
then get kudos for enormous energy. 
Such a spiteful and curious criticism 
scarcely requires confuting. It is 
nothing to do a thing yourself ; it 

9 


130 


Gbe General 


is everything to get things done. 
That is all that is required of a 
head of department, the tact and 
spirit of command requisite to keep 
the staff up to its work. The Gene- 
ral had this tact, this spirit of com- 
mand, in a wonderful degree. He 
had no staff, so he made his friends, 
and even his enemies, abandon their 
own work, and become his staff pro 
tem. You might be busy, you 
might be lazy, you might dislike 
extremely doing a thing for neither 
pay nor thanks — in other words, 
being made a convenience of. You 
might have made up your mind with 
the strongest oaths never so to be 
pressed into service again. But it 
was simply breath thrown away ; it 
was not of the slightest avail. The 
General had the spirit of command. 
He came in and fixed you with the 
power of his eye, then he laid down 
his paper and said, in a voice that 
brooked not the possibility of refusal, 
“Mr. Jones, you will greatly oblige 
me by going over this report and 
filling in the requisite figures. I 


Gbe General 


131 

am in no hurry for it, to-morrow 
will do.” 

You rush after him as he leaves 
it in your hands. “ But, my dear 
General, I really have no time ” 

“ Sir, I repeat I am in no imme- 
diate hurry.” 

“ But — but what is it ? What 
do you want done ? What is it 
about ? ” you cry in despair. 

“Mr. Jones, you will greatly 
oblige me by reading it ; reading it 
through, my dear sir, and seeing 
what it means. / don’t know what 
it is about ; I know nothing of 
statistics. I receive instructions 
from my Government to send in a 
report on worms, and I come at 
once to you. I could n’t leave it in 
better hands. There is no imme- 
diate hurry, to-morrow will do. 
Good- morning ! ” 

You lay it fiercely aside, and 
swear to have nothing to do with 
it ; time goes on, and you know 
you will have to meet the General’s 
eagle frown and inexorable chin ; 
with a groan of despair you lay 


132 


Gbe General 


your work aside and take up your 
new task. It is the spirit of com- 
mand. 

But the General never stooped to 
sue. He could only order, even to 
open rebels. The General wanted 
something of Shirt, with whom he 
was at open war — wives and mutual 
antipathy. It must be carried off 
with bluff. On Monday morning, 
as Shirt was buried in a pile of con- 
fiscation petitions, over which he 
made tremendous self-important 
to-do and got confused and mixed 
into the condition of a pea on a hot 
shovel, the door was flung wide 
open and the tingchai announced, 
in an awed confidential voice, “ The 
Amellican Consul ! ” 

Slowly and portentously the 
General stalked in, with his straw 
wideawake tilted over his eyes, and 
his cheroot, which he held in a 
manner ferocious and peculiar to 
himself in the underlip, tilted up 
towards the brim of his hat, and 
his walking-stick firmly on the 
ground. 


Gbe General 


133 


“ Good-morning, General,” said 
Shirt, not looking up, partly because 
he was in a muddle, and partly 
because he wanted to preserve his 
dignity by restraining his usual 
impulse to cringe before the spirit 
of command. “ Good-morning, Gen- 
eral,” he said. 

But there was no reply. The 
General, with his hat on, and his 
cheroot in his underlip, and his 
stick on the ground, was fixing him 
with the power of his eye. Shirt 
could not sit still under it ; he 
writhed, struggled to resist, and then 
gave in ; he pushed his chair back 
and danced, bowing and scraping, 
towards his visitor, who stood so 
truculently on the threshold. 

“Well, General, what can I do 
for you this morning ? You must 
excuse me not getting up when you 
came in, but really I am so fright- 
. fully busy ” 

The General was eyeing him 
utterly unrelaxed in commanding 
ferocity. Then he suddenly un- 
bent, took his cheroot from his 


134 


tlbe General 


mouth, expanded into his charming 
smile, extended his hand, and said, 
“ Good-morning, Mr. Shirt ! ” 

The revulsion was too much : 
Shirt was vanquished. The 
General immediately resumed his 
truculent air, and fixed the cheroot 
in the side of his mouth, and said 
sternly, “ Mr. Shirt, I require some 
information on worms. I shall be 
obliged by receiving from you any 
publications or statistics you possess 
on the subject. You can send them 
up to me in the course of the morn- 
ing.” And without deigning further 
comment, he portentously left. 

Shirt danced round in the utmost 
distress. “ Really, it is too bad ! It 
is insulting ! It is unheard of, 
coming into my office with his hat 
on and a cigar in his mouth ! I 
won't do it ! I wont look up his 
beastly statistics ! Let him come 
and find them himself if he wants 
them. We are not allowed to send 
documents out of the office. I shall 
write and tell him. I shall write 
and ” 


Gbe General 


135 


Of course he gave in. The 
General had given his orders. He 
did not wait for refusals. They 
were obeyed. Shirt threw up his 
morning’s work to hunt up the old 
archives, and when he had got into 
an inextricable muddle and taken 
off his coat and attachable cuffs and 
turned the whole office topsy-turvy, 
handed it over to me (I was his 
secretary at the time). , 

I pondered over the General’s 
rudeness. I concluded it was a set- 
off to his own conscience for asking 
anything, even in that way, of a 
man he openly despised. It may 
have been American bluff, but at 
the same time the end justified the 
means. He got what he wanted. 
It was diplomacy ; it was tact. It 
showed a profound knowledge of 
the man he was dealing with. That 
whole report was written by me and 
the doctor, and the data were sup- 
plied by all the high local magnates 
placed under energetic contribution, 
and the yellow books. It was copied 
in a flowing hand by his clerk, 


136 


Zbe General 


and then the great signature was 
attached, and we were rewarded 
with a critical and not unqualified 
approval, and a drink over the bar, 
for which, by the by, I paid. This 
was genius ; this was the genius of 
command. The General knew 
nothing of his subject, so he put to 
the wheel those who did. We did n’t 
dare to scamp our work — for him. 

Of course there is a trifle of play- 
ful exaggeration in this. It was a 
pleasure to take pains for so genial 
and charming a friend. The Gene- 
ral was for ever repaying a trifling 
help with presents and kind services. 
Such geniality is alone diplomacy, 
natural as it flows from him. It 
goes to increase the staff. A diplo- 
matist should for ever be enlarging 
his staff. 

And he was a very flood of sun- 
light where there was gloom. I 
remember one Sunday morning 
when I had gone round to look up 
misanthropical Jones. He was in 
a particularly bad humour this 
morning, and sitting on the ground 


Ube General 


137 


sail-making — not dressed. He had 
not got a word for me, and only talked 
to his dogs every now and then, 
when he kicked them off the sail. 
The General came in, bright and 
fresh and sunny as usual, with his 
pink face and snowy linen and light 
tweed suit in the height of summer, 
searching for the Sunday zacouska 
and looked around. 

“ Good-morning, Mr. Jones ! ” 
He always “ mistered ” his nearest 
friends. 

Jones growled without turning 
round. 

“ What is the matter with our 
friend ? ” he asked of me. 

“ Oh, don’t ask me. Some idiotic 
fancied indigestion, I suppose, or the 
system gone wrong.” 

Jones took no notice, but went 
on stitching, bare-footed and un- 
kempt. We ignored his presence 
and talked ; and then the General 
got up, and I too. 

“ Sit down,” he whispered, gently 
pushing me back into my chair ; 
“ wait a minute.” 


138 


XLbc General 


“ Well, good-bye, Mr. Jones,” 
going up and shaking hands with 
him, with a twinkling eye. Then 
he left, and I heard him holding a 
whispered colloquy with the boy ; 
and the heavy bang of the lid 
of the ice-box outside. Then, 
when Jones thought he had gone, 
he burst into the room again like a 
schoolboy, waving a bottle of cham- 
pagne over his head. “ Hurrah, 
hurrah, Mr. Jones ! A find ! I 
was going downstairs quite sad at 
seeing you so melancholy, when the 
lid of your ice-chest lifted of its own 
accord, and out popped this bottle 
of Monopole. ‘Take me to my 
master,’ it whispered ; ‘ take me 

and lay me before him and make 
him drink ; for he must laugh, or 
he will die ! ’ I took upon myself 
the inspired mission : I lay it before 
you. What are you going to do 
with it ? Laugh or die ? ” 

Jones could not resist this ; he 
laughed, opened it, and we were as 
merry as could be. Strange con- 
comitant of the mission : the boy 


Gbe General 


139 


followed close on the General’s 
heels with three glasses, some cut 
bread-and-butter, and a tin of 
anchovy paste and a lump of Rus- 
sian caviare that the General had 
brought in his pocket. “ That, sir, 
has just arrived from Vladivostock, 
and was given me by the captain of 
the Sivoutch /” It may have been 
so, or it may have come from the 
Russians at Hankow ; but it was 
another trait of the General’s poetic 
fancy. Every liqueur, every wine, 
every appetiser on his table, came 
direct from the place of production 
— the gift of the Prince. Why 
not ? 

Glorious company the General 
could be over those Sunday morn- 
ing zacouskas. Zacouska was his 
own name : it was invented to sur- 
round the caviare. 

And with all his bon-gar$on 
camaraderie the General was a 
homely man and a doting father. 
He was a playmate to his little 
daughter, ate bread and milk for 
supper, and retired early to bed. 


140 


Gbe General 


He took a glass of milk in the 
morning, and the milk was brown. 
Such was the American Consul. 
The OBJECTIONABLE ENG- 
LISH CONSUL, on the other hand, 
was a very opposite character. 


OFFICE MEN 



OFFICE MEN. 


Q., THE COLD PRECISE. 

Q . was a cold, sarcastic sort of 
man, I own, but for my part 
I liked him. He was a splen- 
did office man. Some elder assistants 
hated him ; they were those fashion- 
able clerks who consider that they are 
paid to smoke a cigar, read the paper, 
dangle their legs from the table cor- 
ner, and obstruct the work — a way 
of hiding their ignorance. They 
thought they ought to be on familiar 
terms with the Commissioner, drop 
the mister, and take a seat and smoke 
in his office. X. was one of these in 
some respects. He was a simple- 
minded, good-natured little English 
gentleman, hospitable, garrulous, and 
marriedly homely, weak - minded, 
i43 


144 


(Mice Men 


nervous, indecisive, full of rooted 
prejudices on propriety, with a con- 
versational disposition to naughty 
laxity and wide tolerance. “ I ’m 
not the thort of chap to thet the 
Thames on fire, you know, but thtill 
I do my best,” was his humble com- 
ment. But, for all that, he had a 
very touchy idea on the goodness 
of his “ best,” and used to feel very 
sore when a junior ventured to make 
a suggestion to him. He was suffi- 
ciently diffident and unassertive to 
obey such suggestions with a little 
laugh into his puffy moustache and a 
“ Well, you know, I, weally, I ’ve been 
such a long time in the service that 
I ’m beginning to forget these trifles, 
don’t you know ” ; but, for all that, 
he would go home to his wife and 
sooner or later come out with it, how 
the youngsters seemed to have lost all 
reverence for their seniors. He might 
bottle it up for a week, but it would 
rankle till he had had a good grumble. 
Then he would forgive them. 

When Q. came, X. would go into 
his office at ten to have a chat. For 


Office /Iften 


145 


the first few mornings he tried to 
keep up his dignity before me, a 
junior, by giving the impression that 
he held mighty confabulations with 
the chief on matters of state. Then 
he began to show symptoms of bri- 
dling dignity. “ Peculiar man, Q.,” 
he would say, with a funny little smile. 
“ He does n’t mean anything, of 
course — it ’s only his way ; still, I 
must say his manner is peculiar.” 

“ What, rather cold, you mean ? ” 
I said, offhandedly, divining the 
smart of small but wounded dignity 
behind that little laugh. 

“Yes, that’s what it is,” he said, 
warming to his grievance ; “ cold — 
that ’s the very word. Of course it ’s 
only his way, you know ; but then, 
you know, when a man has been 
some twelve or fourteen years in the 
service as I have, he expects to be 
treated with a little more consider- 
ation, don’t you know.” 

“ Awful cold man,” I said, pretend- 
ing to be busy with my work so as 
to hide my amusement. “ And does 
n’t like smoke, too, I believe?” 

10 


146 


(Mice /l Ren 


“ No,” with the self-conscious little 
laugh ; “ that is just one of the points 
where his behaviour was, to say the 
least, a little peculiar. I ’ve always 
been accustomed, don’t you know, to 
stroll in and have a chat with the 
Commissioner, and I generally take 
my cigar with me.” (Cool, I thought.) 
“ Well, Q. said to me this morning — 
in fact, gave me to understand that 
he did n’t like smoke. And then, you 
know, he does n’t. ask a fellow to sit 
down ; in fact, he seems as though 
he did n’t want to see a fellow. Of 
course I have got nothing particular 
to say ; but when a fellow ’s been 
some twelve or fourteen years in the 
service, he naturally expects to be 
consulted a little, don’t you know, 
and shown the despatches, don’t you 
know, and that sort of thing.” 

And so the murder was out. I 
could imagine Q.’s manner. Writing 
a letter when X. knocks and comes 
hesitatingly in, with his moustache- 
muffled little “ good-morning.” Q. 
frowns and does not look up for some 
time, while X. fidgets about, blows 


©fiftce dften 


147 


the smoke through his moustache, 
and looks through the window. Then 
Q. lifts his fever-yellowed face 
with an air of cool annoyance that 
spreads for a moment into a miser- 
able, sarcastic smile, eyeing his visi- 
tor with the look of surprise that asks, 
“ What the devil do you want ? ” and 
says — 

“ Is Mrs. X. quite well this morn- 
ing, and the baby ? ” 

“ Oh, yeth, thankth, which reminds 
me that the wife was saying to me 
this morning that you might feel a 
bit lonely perhaps on just arriving, 
and if you cared to come round to a 
quiet little dinner to-night — pot-luck, 
you know ” 

Faint blush and sarcastic smile on 
part of Q., who replies — 

“ Thanks, I am used to my own 
company. I am afraid I must ask 
you to excuse me. Have you any 
news this morning ? ” (“ Because, 

if you haven’t, the sooner you leave 
the better I shall be pleased ” — un- 
spoken.) 

“ No ; I only just looked in to see 


148 


©fKce A Ren 


if there was any news from Peking, 
or anything ? ” 

“ Many thanks. Should there be 
any circulars relating to the business 
of your office, I will send them in in 
the course of the morning. Is there 
anything else ? ” 

And Q. goes on with his letters, 
with a slight frown of annoyance, 
then looks up to say — 

“ I observe that you smoke in the 
morning, Mr. X. I should feel it a 
favour if you would leave your cigar 
outside when business brings you into 
my office, as I detest smoke.” 

Exit X., confused, and preparing 
to puff and strut the moment he gets 
on the other side of the door, eyed out 
with cold surprise and melancholy 
sarcasm by Q. 

Q. was the same to everybody in 
the office. He nearly always wore 
an air of being annoyed at the inter- 
ruption, but, at the same time, he 
always attended carefully to the sub- 
ject brought before him, although 
he never lost an opportunity of mild 
sarcasm of the wet-blanket-on-youth- 


Office /flben 


149 


ful-enthusiasm sort, and generally 
managed to find a mistake in the 
statement of fact. But all this was 
merely his way, idiosyncratic of the 
confirmed old bachelor sceptic, partly 
based on twenty odd years of ex- 
perience in managing staffs of young 
men inclined to carry the familiarity 
of society into the office, subverting 
the brief command-and-obey with 
which self-sufficient men of reflection 
prefer to conduct the work. Q. was 
a commissioner of near the longest 
standing in the service, and young 
assistants, disappointed at his mel- 
ancholy reception of some suggestion 
to them new and striking, would 
come across some old reports written 
twenty years before, in which Q. had 
exhaustively worked up and out this 
very same subject. 

Then, too, rumour said that Q. had 
been drawing five hundred taels a 
month for all these years and had 
never spent a farthing, and so must 
be immensely rich. His reputed 
wealth was borne out by the fact 
that he was superficially stingy and 


150 


©fffce /Ifcen 


ascetic. As a matter of fact, Q. 
entertained at least as much and as 
expensively as other commissioners, 
and spent liberally on anything that 
deserved expense ; but being a 
sceptic, freed from cant and show, 
he had reduced his life to a sys- 
tem of common-sense economy that 
created envy in poor married assis- 
tants who, from mere vanity and want 
of self-control, spent twice as much 
on half the pay. That is to say, Q., 
knowing the value of health and the 
insipidity of chance companionship, 
and having long since analysed the 
vanity of ordinary so-called pleas- 
ures, neither smoked, nor drank, 
nor frequented the club. Smoke he 
did n’t like, and between-meal drinks 
disagreed with his liver. Compan- 
ionship he enjoyed occasionally of 
his own choosing, but solitude had 
more charms than the fortuitous 
gathering over the club bar. He 
didn’t keep more servants than he 
actually wanted, and he did not 
give them twelve dollars when they 
would work better on eight. He 


©tfice Men 


51 


knew the value of things, and pre- 
ferred buying in the cheapest market, 
and he preferred a cheaper article to 
a more expensive one when it would 
serve the purpose equally well. 
Finally, he did not see why he should 
retire when he preferred work to 
ennui, and China to England. Why 
should he throw up enjoyment and 
income together ? If he were paid 
to retire and charged to remain, 
doubtless he would elect to remain. 
It was these very common-sense 
principles that earned for him the 
accusation of stinginess from men 
who envied his economy because 
they could not emulate it, and 
abused his sticking to the service 
because they wished to step into 
his shoes. 

Q. was, in fact, a confirmed, selfish 
old bachelor, desiccated of all the 
blood and water that makes a vibrat- 
ing life, but which at the same time 
is the source of innumerable excesses 
and humours. Freed thus of the 
causes of unreliability, he had be- 
come one of those exact, methodical 


152 


©fffce /n ben 


minds that work for ever with the 
greatest precision and regularity — 
one of those bachelors who have 
known every phase and evil in life, 
suspect everything, provide against 
everything, and have remedies against 
most of its ills. Life is to them an 
old game. They know all its moves 
— they have played it so long ! Like 
whist, they tire not of it ; they still 
feel a half-ironical pleasure in playing 
their cards according to time-learnt, 
farseeing rules, and watching the 
mistakes of others. Only, they have 
lost its zest. All the novelty, the 
chance, the admiration, the triumph, 
has departed from the game ; but 
they have lost, too, all sense of morti- 
fication at mistakes or defeat. Hold ; 
Q. had still one chord in touch with 
life. It was music — his “ ’cello.” He 
played precisely, accurately, well. 
He was jarred at the least want of 
time or tune. Even to this pastime, 
perhaps keeping the whole spirit 
fresh, he gave the air of desiccated 
coldness. The suggestion of thrill 
or enthusiasm, even for music, would 


Office /Ifcen 


153 


bring to his life the same time-worn, 
sarcastic smile. But supposing Q. 
had not that one softer hobby ? 
Veritably he would have been a 
counterpart of the homme a Voreille 
cassee. 

However, a man can get on very 
well without the spark or liquidity 
of life. Exuberance is not always 
acceptable ; often it is a nuisance. 
Wit, irony, anecdotes, knowledge, 
and experience may exist without 
life (imagination) ; very often they 
scintillate with the harder brilliance 
for the want of it. For true pre- 
cision and systematic work this 
absence of spiritual moisture is 
indeed an essential. And this is 
what I am maintaining — that Q. 
was an excellent man in the office. 
To shallow or exuberant natures Q. 
was uncomfortably cold, but to one 
wrapped up in one’s work, or of a 
methodical, practical mind, such a 
chief was a boon. He never fussed ; 
he never “ flew round ” ; he never 
came into the general office ; he 
never said “ What are we to do ? ” 


154 


©ffice /Ifeen 


He never cried over spilt milk, or 
found fault when a fault was be- 
yond rectification. He never made 
promises of attention, but always 
attended to everything sooner or 
later, while seeming to discounte- 
nance it. He never showed satis- 
faction with the efforts of a junior, 
but took practical steps to procure 
him an appreciation better than 
empty words. He was in no hurry, 
and did one thing at a time ; but 
gradually he studied every branch 
of what was going on under him 
slowly, carefully, and fully. He 
did not leap to conclusions, or did 
not rush to others for advice until 
he had conscientiously exhausted 
his own reflection and experience, 
and did not disdain to make use of 
the experience of the humblest under 
him when it was useful. In fact, he 
considered all the bearings of a case, 
and then made up his mind. Do 
you know what that means — to 
have a chief who can make up his 
mind — one who arrives at a quiet 
decision, and then issues his instruc- 


(Mice /Ifcen 


155 


tions briefly and clearly ? The 
delightful calm and regularity that 
ensued with two week’s of Q.’s 
authority, after the two years of 
indecision and confusion that had 
existed under S., was as marked as 
the calm after a storm at sea. 
Abuses dropped out, errors in the 
returns disappeared, frauds on the 
revenue ceased, the channels of 
trade regulated and improved them- 
selves. Under such a rule, carried 
on for a year or two uninterrupted, 
trade and revenue would increase. 
Q. had wide views and wide knowl- 
edge ; he had worked hard and 
accurately in his youth, with an 
amount of painstaking and con- 
scientiousness that surprised me as 
I read his old reports. He under- 
stood the trade as few understand 
it, with clear and orderly survey, 
but devoid of hobbies or enthusiasm. 

JACK-IN-THE-BOX S. 

Contrast with this his predecessor 
S. S., in the language of the 
junior’s mess, waltzed on his ear, 


156 


Office Men 


and flew round like a pea on a hot 
shovel. S. dreaded giving offence, 
conciliated all of any influence with 
cringing servility, and bullyragged 
the humble. He could never make 
up his mind : could not sit down 
and reflect quietly by himself ; leapt 
to the most senseless conclusions, 
flew round asking every one’s advice, 
arrived, after agonies of indecision, 
at the most indeterminate resolu- 
tions, which he had no sooner issued 
than he rushed out to countermand 
them and throw himself and the 
office into a chaos of confusion 
again. He was a little man, utterly 
lacking in self-confidence, dignity, 
or moral influence, despised and 
derided by every one, and most of 
all by his own staff. I will give 
you an instance of this in a little 
office sketch. 

“ Oh, Lord ! here comes that con- 
founded nuisance, Shirt, to kick up 
some rumpus or other. Watch him ; 
you ’ll be amazed.” 

This is how young B. spoke of his 
chief across the office to me. B. was 


©ffice rtfcen 


157 


six months in the service and I was 
one. It was the “ general office,” a 
long, low “ shanty,” with over a dozen 
Chinese clerks and us two, B. being 
“ in charge ” of it. Outside was a 
garden, or inner court, with a cov- 
ered way leading to the main build- 
ing, where the Commissioner’s 
Accountant’s Return’s, and Banker’s 
offices were. I went and looked 
over B.’s shoulder out of the window 
and saw S. shambling ridiculously 
across with his big splay feet and 
dancing bent-kneed gait, hand up to 
his cropped moustache and beard, 
and frowning in perplexed effort to 
think what he was going to say. I 
got back to my desk, and B. stood up 
in front of the stove and lit a cigar- 
ette. Then the glass doors burst 
open and S. bursts in with a sort of 
indefinable frou-frou about him, 
which seems at once to stir up the 
mud and kick up a cloud of dust. 
He pulls up at the application-bar, 
where several coolies are tending 
their export applications or waiting 
for transit passes. 


158 


©fffce dlben 


“ Ph’, ph’, donawetter ! this office 
is as stuffy as a pigstye ! Here, you 
there, boy, what do you want to 
light the stove for on a day like 
this ? Open a window, open a 
window, quick ! ” 

The boys, or ting-chais y block the 
entrance towards our end, so he is 
headed off towards the head lin- 
guist’s desk, to which he has a 
partiality. In fact, the chief reason 
of S.’s visits to the general office, 
where we youngsters said “ he had 
no business” (!), was to air his 
Chinese. He spoke with a great 
deal of volubility, which he supposed 
was speaking well ; and volubility 
is certainly a great advance on the 
ordinary student. It was, however, 
merely Norwegian translated into 
Wade, and concatenated with ph’ 
ph’s, donawetters, and chih-tao s 
while the actual purport of his talk 
never came out clearly at all, being 
engrossed with “ words at any price.” 
And so there he goes, blowing round 
the native clerks like a grampus, and 
utterly confusing the question at 


<Mfce Men 


159 


issue with his verbose and meaning- 
less loquacity, and interrupting him- 
self to comment on the documents 
on the desks, chide, upbraid, advise, 
always on wholly unfounded prem- 
ises, until he reaches our end of 
the office. First he dances up to 
my desk, looks over my shoulder, 
says, “ Ph’, ph’, that shouldn’t be 
like this ; you are entering it all 
wrong ! No, no, I beg your pardon, 
I was mistaken ; that was not what 
I meant. At the same time you 
should be careful, you know ; you 
should consult older heads. B. 
there — well, I suppose he does n’t 
know much more about it than you 
do ; but if there is anything you 
are not certain about, bring it in to 
me ; bring it in to me. Don’t take 
too much on your own responsi- 
bility. No, I know, I know. Still, 
it is best to be on the safe side. 
This, for instance, you have entered 
entirely wrong ; this is an applica- 
tion to export, and you have entered 
it as an arrival. Oh, no, I see ; I 
beg your pardon ; I have made a 


i6o 


©fRce /Ifcen 


mistake. Still, don’t be too self- 
confident, don’t be too self-con- 
fident.” 

Then he gets in front of young 
B., who is a head taller, and is 
rounding his handsome red lips to 
blow the smoke out in a ring, 
and looking languidly over his 
head. 

“Now, Bryant, come, you know, 
you are forgetting yourself. Do you 
know who I am ? Please to throw 
that thing away at once and attend 
to me ! This, this, shipwrecked 
cargo ! what is to be done ? what 
do you mean ? Explain yourself, 
explain yourself ; what has hap- 
pened ? What does it all mean ? 
Who told you ? How is it it comes 
to you first, and not to me ? And 
what do you mean by this memo- 
randum ? I can’t make head or 
tail of it ; the whole thing is in- 
comprehensible. You have no right 
to write chits ; you should come 
and explain it in person. You ” 

“ My dear Mr. S.”— oh, that de- 
lightful patronising superciliousness 


©fftce /I Ren 


161 


which none but a perfect novice can 
assume ! — “ My dear sir, in the first 
place, I knew you were busy, and I 
myself have a lot to do here, and 
should be delaying the work of the 
office if I am kept waiting outside 
your door ; and secondly, if you had 
read my memorandum through you 
would have perceived that I have 
stated the whole circumstances far 
more succinctly than I could do by 
word of mouth. I ” 

“ B., B., you are entirely forgetting 
yourself ! You don’t seem to know 
who you are talking to ! I want ex- 
planations ; I want comments ; I 
want to know if. you have looked up 
the instructions and the circulars. 
Oh, dear me, dear me ; I wish I had 
an older hand whom I could consult ! 
I am utterly at a loss ; I can’t make 
up my mind ; the whole thing is a 
muddle ; I can’t make head or tail 
of it ! ” 

And so, having completely de- 
layed the w T hole work of the office 
for a quarter of an hour, and made 
an exhibition of his incapacity to 

ii 


162 


(Mice Albeit 


half a dozen merchant’s runners, 
who have been kept waiting for 
their documents, he shambles out 
again without having attempted to 
come to any decision on what was 
the simplest little matter before he 
had kicked up the dust. Now he 
will put it off till to-morrow, while 
the cargo is left soaking in the 
leaking ship that has collided and 
run ashore two miles down the 
river, unless the tide-surveyor gives 
the agent an official hint to bring it 
up without a permit. 

S. could never make up his mind ; 
things generally went by default 
unless the harbour-master or general 
office assistant avoided submitting 
it to him at all. Tide-waiters gave 
over seizing contraband that was 
never confiscated ; examiners gave 
over detecting “ false declarations ” 
that were never fined ; assistants 
gave ever suggesting improvements 
that were never approved ; and but 
for the excellence of the harness 
the very horse would have gone 
backward, for all the guidance and 


Office A Ren 


163 


incitement he got from the driver. 
He was one of those incapables who 
conceal their incapacity until they 
are entrusted with a post which 
requires alone all firmness and de- 
cision. Then they let things go to 
the dogs and devote themselves only 
to those points, generally of detail 
and expenditure, which come under 
the notice of the Head. They are 
wonderfully conscientious over the 
office accounts, and monthly reports, 
and condition of the buildings ; but 
the collection of the revenue, the 
honest assessment of duty and ex- 
amination of .goods, and the pre- 
vention of smuggling, entirely slips 
from their grasp. Excellent as are 
the checks and counter-checks, these 
are not things which will run by 
themselves. Bribery and corrup- 
tion, or carelessness, are enemies 
always on the watch for laxity of 
oversight. Fortunately, as I say, no 
country possesses so efficient a check 
as the use of two languages and 
systems of writing and calculation 
for each transaction in connection 


164 


(Mice /Ifcen 


with the revenue ; and no country 
can possess better devised forms of 
duty-books and returns which keep 
a mechanical watch in themselves. 
But were the duty-accounts entirely 
conducted in one language, and 
only one people, such a head of 
department would speedily invite 
abuses or carelessness. 

A POWERFUL HYPOCRITE. 

“ Grant ” was the great standing 
hero of my admiration in this line. 
G. is, in my opinion, the coming 
man. I don’t see how mere circum- 
stance can resist him. Imagine a 
man of iron constitution and trained 
athletic limbs, sound common-sense, 
prompt decision, adamantine reso- 
lution, a university degree, a college 
and China reputation in rowing, 
riding, and shooting, a few anec- 
dotes, a song, and a long, down- 
pointed nose : here alone you have 
the sure makings of success. But 
when you add to this a craft study 
of men’s weakness, a social suavity 


©fffce /II ben 


165 


and tact, a Machiavellian foxiness 
and unscrupulosity, you have the 
makings, in my mind, of an irresist- 
ible coming man. (Grant is merely 
a fancy name, after the American 
general, of “ keep on pegging-away ” 
fame. I should not like any one of 
that name to flatter himself without 
a cause). To tell the truth, Grant 
and I were rivals ; not that, with 
his unerring acumen, he ever found 
anything to fear in me, but that 
I for a long time presumed to 
regard him as such, thinking, I 
believe, if anything, that I was 
the better man of the two. Grant 
beat me, walked away from me in 
everything. This will explain the 
envious acerbity that tinges my 
remarks. Grant never had any- 
thing but tolerant contempt for 
my rivalry, and all the time I 
thought he was striving as hard to 
beat me as I to beat him. Grant 
knew that there were other rivals 
in the world than I ; he was striving 
to beat the best one and all. I 
looked round to no one else ; I 


Office Men 


1 66 


thought if I can come in ahead of 
Grant I win. Perhaps I was right, 
but mine was a restricted rivalry ; 
he was a man of the world. Suc- 
cessful in a small way, when Grant 
came on the scene all my little 
superiorities fell one by one. I felt 
like Antony before Octavius. Grant 
disclaimed efficiency in everything. 
He would say at tennis, “ Oh, you 
know it is no good my playing 
against you ; I ’m only good in a 
four as a more or less reliable back, 
but I can’t make ‘ strokes,’ you 
know, and I serve like a lady. I 
just get them over the net, and 
that’s all.” And then of course he 
would beat you. But only by a 
little, and then chiefly uninten- 
tionally. He had far too great 
diplomacy and self-control to 
indulge in victory for mere self- 
congratulation. This powerful self- 
control, as it gradually unmasked 
itself before us, filled me with dis- 
mayed awe. He professed his want 
of practice, experience, aptitude, 
with such humble deprecation, that 


(Mice /nben 


167 


you began to put on slight patro- 
nising airs in discussing the par- 
ticular sport in question, but G. 
would never disclose his mastership 
for vulgar triumph. Every pas- 
sion of vanity or justifiable pride 
was subservient to the grand plan 
of his life. And this was his plan 
of life. This man, then, of rock- 
like common-sense, keen, un- 
fallacied knowledge of the world, 
boundless ambition, unswerving 
decision, iron will, said thus to 
himself, “ I despise the herd of friv- 
olous, weak, indecisive fools that 
make the world. I have the stuff, 
the strength, the resolution, to be 
their master, then I will be. Power 
alone shall be my guiding star. I 
will tie myself down to no rigid 
self-denial, taking the best of all 
things on my way ; but pleasure, 
friendship, love must be trodden on 
when they begin to grow on the 
straight path of my ambition. And 
how am I to gain power ? The 
power that I wish, the power of 
actual command and active rule, 


i68 


©ffice /I ben 


depends on high position. At pres- 
ent for me it means promotion in 
the service. The most important 
faction for me is favour and in- 
fluence and popularity. I cannot 
find favour with the weak and the 
strong ; I will make friends of the 
strong. Those who are in the posi- 
tion to recommend me, in however 
remote and round-about way, shall 
be my stepping-stones ; I will de- 
vote my whole energy and ability to 
find favour in their sight. The 
weak may still be kept neutral ; 
enemies are dangerous. I will 
conciliate all, at least I will avoid, 
in so far as my primary duty to the 
strong allows, hurting their feelings. 
After this I must prove myself a 
good office man, humble, prompt, 
obedient, and intelligent.” 

Armed with this broad but clearly 
marked line of conduct, Grant never 
hesitated. Whatever point of doubt 
occurred he weighed it by this code 
and made his choice. His great 
strength lay in this, the absence of 
vacillation. His sound perception 


©fffce /iften 


i6g 

always grasped solidly the great guid- 
ing rules of experience, refusing to 
burden itself with the thousand petty 
details which over-weigh and ham- 
per the ordinary Machiavelli. These 
were very few — the importance of 
decision, the importance of con- 
stancy and promptness in giving 
effect to the decision, the use of 
favour or influence, the danger of 
jealousy — that there is a time to 
be weak and a time to be strong. 
With these solid maxims he steered. 
And the first of these was decision. 

Grant, in short, was a strong man, 
a terribly strong man. It was hard 
work, and it left its marks, but he 
never swerved. We had known each 
other a long time, and I read him 
intimately. He was perfectly aware 
of my intuition, for he had a very 
sensitive, or sympathetic perception ; 
our two minds, or souls understood 
each other thoroughly, though I do 
not say amicably, and yet his lips 
would not betray him. He would 
persist in a lie because he had de- 
cided on it. “ Come,” I would say, 


©fSce dben 


170 


“ between us two, sitting alone here, 
what is the good of keeping the 
mask on ? I understand your prin- 
ciple thoroughly, and admire it, old 
fellow, but it ’s waste labour with me. 
I don’t blame you for cultivating 
Brown’s acquaintance, it is undoubt- 
edly a useful one ; but confess that 
you see he is essentially a cad.” 

“ No, really you are wrong, M . 

I am not a time-server, as you 
insist on pretending. If I thought 
Brown what you say, do you really 
think I should make a friend of 
him ? I assure you you are quite 
mistaken in him ; I myself did n’t 
think much of him at first, I tell 
you candidly ; but now I know him 
I see he has a great deal more in 
him than shows on the surface. 
He ’s an excellent fellow, Brown ; 
he ’s been a good friend to me, and 
I don’t like to hear you running 
him down, even in private.” 

And yet the foxlike smile and 
deepening of the eyes told that it 
was a forced sacrifice of the sincer- 
ity of friendship. Poor G. ! he had 


©tftce men 


171 

entered on a rocky path, but he 
was equal to the toil. His tactics 
brought upon him the hate or 
contempt of not a few honest and 
candid natives ; yet feeling it he 
held bravely on, taking it as one of 
the inevitable burdens. 

He adopted the line of character 
most suited to his physical bent. 
He put on the rough, frank sports- 
man, “ Give me my pony and my 
gun, and I am contented to plod on 
for ever. I am not ambitious ; I 

leave that to geniuses like M . 

I ’m only a rough sort, you know ; not 
much of a scholar or a reader. I 
have got everything I want ; I like 
my work and the country, and 
don’t care if I never get another 
promotion.” At other times he 
would say he was sick of China and 
would n’t remain in it much longer ; 
sooner be in the old country and 
married and settle down as a quiet 
country farmer. “ It ’s not as though 
I was keen on money and promotion, 

like M here. My wants are 

easily satisfied. Why should I wear 


172 


©fittce Men 


my life out in this country ? A nice 
little wife and a quiet fireside, that is 
what I look forward to ! ” 

Oh, the hypocrite ! The strong, 
the terrible hypocrite ! 

THE JUGGERNAUT OF PROMOTION. 

Young B.’s delightful contempt for 
his master recalls a thought that has 
long boiled within my breast. It is 
in the cringing servility engendered 
by red tape. This independence of 
the young man who says,“ all gentle- 
men, sir, are equal,” is utterly boiled 
down in a year. When he first 
came, he said to me, “ haw, you 
know, we don’t care a damn for 
Shirt, beastly little nuisance. Have 
to tell him to shut up when he gets 
obstreperous. Wants the lid shut 
down on him every now and then 
like a jack-in-the-box on a hot 
shovel. If he gets dancing round 
you, just tell him to dry up. Tell 
him you know a jolly sight more 
about the work than he does, and 
you don’t want him interfering with 


/ 


Office dfcen 


173 


your desk. He ’s no right out 
of his own office at all, if it comes 
to that.” 

So B. after six months’ service. 
How different a tale the next time 
we were together! He was serving 
nice easy balls to Shirt at tennis, 
applauding his strokes, going out for 
walks with him, standing up when 
he came into the office, consulting 
him on every trifling discrepancy. 
“ Hallo, B.,” I said, coming into the 
office at five minutes past ten, with 
my meerschaum pipe in my mouth, 
and sitting on the corner of his 
desk and reaching for the matches. 
“ Here we are again, eh ? Same old 
story and same old game ! ” 

B. looked at me with chill sur- 
prise. “ I should be glad, M , 

if you will try and be down by ten ; it 
sets such a bad example to the clerks, 
you know, and S. does n’t like it.” 

“ Oh, all right, old fellow. We 
use n’t to care much what S. thought 
in the old days, if I recollect.” 

“ Oh, well, that was different, you 
know. In the first place, he was 


174 


(Mice /Ibett 


only ‘ in charge ’ then ; but we owe 
a certain amount of respect to a full 
commissioner. And then, you know, 
it ’s all very well when you are a 
griffin ; but this sort of thing, you 
know, hardly looks well after you ’ve 
been two or three years in the 
service.” 

“ Had a promotion lately ? ” 

“ Er— no.” 

“Oh, thought you had. Well, 
you ’re going to make up for lost 
time ; congratulate you. It ’s time 
I followed your example. By the 
by, here ’s some nonsense or other ; 
discrepancy of some sort : number 
of transit pass disagrees. Let him 
take it away and alter it, I sup- 
pose ? ” 

“ Oh, what is it ? let me look. 
H’m ; looks like a swindle. Wang !” 

We used to say “Mr. Wang” to 
the head linguist, a man of sixty 
years. 

“ Don’t trouble,” I say ; “ I ’ll look 
it up ; what do you do, then ? Take 
it across to S. ? Beastly nuisance, 
as he does n’t know anything about 


\ 


(Mice /Ibett 175 

transit passes ; however, I ’ll just 
run across with it if you dike, for 
look — see ! ” 

“ Er,” calling me back r '“ you will 

excuse me reminding y»j>u, M , 

that it is my place, as sbnior Assis- 
tant, to submit discrepancies to the 
Commissioner if I think^ them suffi- 
ciently important ! ” 

“ Oh, certainly, my 1; jrd ! ” I said, 
throwing the application down on his 
desk with a laugh, bu without him 
relaxing his bridling se jf-importance ; 
“ take it in by all meai )s yourself, my 
dear fellow ; I can’t stand consulting 
that man ! ” 

So it was ; B. was now standing 
in for promotion ; jand the moment 
this spirit seizes a ; nan, he is lost to 
sincerity and friendship. Hence- 
forth his friendship stops short of 
all who can in any way be rivals ; 
his sincerity ends when it comes to 
criticise his Commissioner. No 
matter how often in days gone by 
he has ridiculed the notion of toady- 
ism, and openly abused his chief, 
now he will force himself to con- 


©ffice /Ifcen 


176 




sciousl^ lie to your face on his 
admiration for the man who sends 
the recon mendations for promotion. 
He has learnt the great lesson of 
toadyism tjiat every comment passed 
in the utmost privacy reaches the 
ears of itsq subject sooner or later ; 
therefore Ao longer will he criticise 
even to his bosom friend. The 
result is soo! that friendship, that is 
perfect confidence and sincerity in 
conversation with another, is erad- 
icated from | he components of his 
life. He del| irately sacrifices it on 
the altar of hi& ambition. 

Yes, the hardness of life arises 
from rivalry ; and this, of course, 
makes itself fell most prominently 
in a government service where there 
are a large number of young men 
in the same line, eager for promo- 
tion for the actual increase of money 
as well as from ambition and rivalry. 
And promotion is such a lottery ! 
The cleverest man is the one most 
likely to be left behind, as service 
requirements only watch for steady 
mediocrity, and cleverness is the 


Office /ifcett 


77 


most apt to give proofs of unsteadi- 
ness. Hence heartburnings. Owing 
to this eagerness and uncertainty, 
after a few years the young govern- 
ment clerk becomes a man of the 
world in the worst sense of the 
word ; he becomes unscrupulously 
selfish. His sole object is to gain 
favour with the promotion-givers, 
and trip his competitors. I am 
sorry to avow such an opinion of 
human nature ; but despite the 
several specimens of disinterested 
men I have known — despite the 
assurances that a learned gentleman 
who used to correct my essays gave 
me, that philosophers had long 
abandoned selfishness as a root- 
motive — I still come to the conclu- 
sion that that motive is so strong 
among the world’s competitors, that 
these two are their guiding aims : 
Namely, to curry favour with the 
prize-givers by every dignity-sacrifi- 
cing artifice ; to disable rivals by 
the most unscrupulous and dishon- 
ourable means, such as false slander 
and tale-bearing. 


12 


178 


©fffce A ben 


Unless you are in the race your- 
self — unless you have felt the prompt- 
ing of these vile jealousies — you will 
say it is a most unfounded aspersion 
on our civilisation. The many nice 
young men you know, they would 
not stoop either to forego their 
proper dignity or to slander ; they 
would not condescend to speak true 
scandal of a rival, much less ma- 
licious or invented slander. Well, 
sir, I sincerely hope they are in- 
capable of it. The first lesson a 
criminal learns, never to forget, is 
secrecy and hypocrisy. As soon as 
a man foregoes the unconscious self- 
respect of true honour, he learns, by 
becoming conscious of its existence 
(which he does in the very act of 
losing it), the signs by which it 
manifests itself to the eyes of on- 
lookers. You who meet him in 
society see him only as he is pre- 
pared to be seen. One of the very 
items of toadyism and slander is an 
air of disinterested proud ingenuous- 
ness. The combination of the two 
is his life’s study. You must not 


©fffce /Ifceti 


179 


expect to discern these faults unless 
you are in the same environment. 
Honour and self-respect are not such 
common virtues as one might gather 
from faces. When you find a true 
gentleman, be he never so ugly or 
unfashionable, cherish him. 

A has virtue, honour, and love, 
when the juggernaut of promotion 
drags by. 

Promotion — vile word ! In it in 
my memory is summed up the 
essence of slavery ! There has 
never existed a slavery with half 
so relentless a task-master ; the 
mere physical serfdom chained and 
lashed but the limbs, but the slavery 
of civilisation rivets iron to our very 
mind and soul, and causes self- 
respect, the last resource in life’s 
box of hope, to stoop under the 
humiliation of the yoke. The mere 
condition of work — frittering the 
mind’s powers away on utterly alien 
and uninteresting drudgery — makes 
the clerk more to be pitied than 
the slave ; but when you view the 
moral effects of his condition, you 


i8o 


©ffice /ifceti 


first appreciate the depth of his 
abasement. What is the object of 
life ? Surely we were born into 
this world either to do our duty to 
God as Christians, by the one 
doctrine, or our duty to ourselves 
and to nature, by true enjoyment of 
our brief allotted span, by the other. 
Not , surely (trite reflection !) the 
duty of living up to an arbitrary 
standard of laws and fashion, nor 
to the pleasure of working out 
arithmetical calculations required 
by some temporary head of depart- 
ment, or of amassing round pieces 
of senseless and unbeautiful metal. 
And yet such has become the mai?i 
object of life to most. The com- 
munal laws that society, through 
Moses and Parliament, has built up 
for self-protecting cohesion and 
minimising of individual watchful- 
ness have become their ultimate 
code of morals ; their philosophy of 
pleasure has contracted itself to a 
mere negative avoidance of senseless 
fashionable disapproval. This is 
what civilisation has done for us : it 


©ffice /ifoen 


181 


has made us the poor mechanical 
automata wired into the framework 
of an elaborate but rickety panto- 
mine. In the place of live and 
thinking animals we have become 
the puppets of a show. Such are 
not the slaves of the body. 

WANG. 

Poor Wang ! How strange that 
at my first step on to Chinese soil I 
should have had thrown into my 
service the most patient, clever, and 
poetic of men (not Chinamen only) 
that I have ever met — one of those 
men who, taken in hand by a gener- 
ous patron and given the means and 
leisure of self-development, become 
Fenelons and philosophers ! Such 
was Wang, I firmly assert, after the 
most careful study of his character 
for several years. But I was too 
stingy — that is the truth — to be that 
patron myself. He left me after 
six months to become an office- 
boy, which he still is, unless, which 
Heaven forbid ! he, too, has incurred 


182 


©fffce /n ben 


disgrace through his short and long- 
since-finished connection with me. 
If he is still there, may these lines 
yet meet the eye of some discerning 
Commissioner to lift him out of the 
slough of menial tasks into the chance 
of more congenial work. Many a 
time, unknown to him, I have watched 
him with a sigh sweeping the office 
and dusting the inkstands ; patient, 
because it was useless to complain ; 
careful and industrious, because he 
was conscientious, and because he 
was prudent, oh, so prudent, and 
knew better than to throw away at 
least a livelihood in following the 
profitless bemoanings of unrecog- 
nised genius ; and yet withal so 
gently, uncomplainingly disappoint- 
ed at the cruelties of fate. And he 
never despaired. He was for ever 
educating himself. He had taught 
himself English ; what was far rarer 
among boys, he had taught himself 
Chinese. He wrote (Chinese) as 
well as any clerk. He could read 
(Chinese) despatches with perfect 
intelligence, and with very few 


®t flee men 


183 


characters unknown. He could read 
novels without a hesitation. He 
made an excellent teacher for begin- 
ners : I learnt all my colloquial 
from him. And then, he would 
love to spend a leisure day in paint- 
ing ; he would dare to project a 
work — a book of his own. And all 
this, poor fellow, amid squalid sur- 
roundings and continual family an- 
noyances. One wife died ; his father- 
in-law forced him to marry her 
sister. He had invested his early 
savings in a patch of land. He had 
built a house ; he had let it. In his 
enforced absence from home he was 
cheated. His prudent, economic 
mind was distracted ; the capital of 
twelve years’ work was gone. His 
mother-in-law died ; he had to bury 
her. Always saving, always sure of 
a place as boy, always kindhearted, 
he was dogged by a set of ne’er-do- 
well relations. They ridiculed his 
studies at home ; his fellow ting-chais 
were jealous if he attempted them in 
his leisure at the office, sitting in the 
draught of the passage and moment- 


1 84 


©ffice /Ifoen 


arily interrupted — and patient, re- 
signed, yet undismayed with it all. 
What I wanted to do for him was to 
provide him leisure and freedom from 
interruption to complete his knowl- 
edge of his own language at least. 
A self-taught man has such difficul- 
ties to contend against in China. He 
may read excellently for pages, until 
suddenly comes an illusion or quota- 
tion that he does n’t understand. 
It is from some of the classics or 
histories ; it shows at once that he 
has not been through the curriculum. 
Confidence is lost in him ; he is not 
an educated man. This was my fear 
of launching Wang into the world as 
my teacher and a gentleman. Re- 
fined and intelligent as he was, he 
would at first have betrayed his lack 
of rudiments, and fallen between two 
stools. He would have met the fate 
of the jackdaw in the peacock’s 
feathers. As this mattered little to 
me, however, I left it to him. I did at 
last, after turning the project over 
in my head for years, and when he 
had lost confidence in me and it was 


©fffce /l Ren 


185 


too late — I did at last offer to make 
him my teacher — that is, practically 
to give him an idle life with the use 
of my room and books and instruc- 
tion in English, with the same pay 
as he was getting legally guaranteed 
for five years. In other words, with 
an immense w r restle with my mean- 
ness, I was prepared to lay down five 
hundred dollars in an act of pure 
benevolence. He was diffident of 
himself, and furthermore, distrustful 
of me. After two weeks’ indecision 
he refused. Heaven grant that that 
distrustfulness may have saved him 
from suspicion when I proved the 
sound sense of his mistrust by hurl- 
ing myself and those with me head- 
long into ruin. 

People will say that there are 
always men like this whom it would 
be pleasant to help, whom we think 
poverty-depressed geniuses, just be- 
cause they are poor and uneducated. 
But I suspected my own benevo- 
lence ; I thought of this. I watched 
many Chinamen with unbiassed eye, 
with a suppositious hundred pounds 


1 86 


©fftce Men 


in my hand, to be spent on no other 
object. I looked long at some of 
whom I was fond, some who had 
served me faithfully and with risk. 
I was not fond of Wang. His catlike 
hesitation and prudence enraged me. 
His penetration read the weakness 
of my character and mistrusted it, 
which galled me. His moderation 
and temperance accorded ill with 
my enthusiasms, my rashness, and 
my pleasures. I did not like him ; 
I disliked him ; and yet, at the last, 
as at the first, I came to the conclu- 
sion that he was the one man ever 
thrown in my way whom I was 
called on to help. 

For I believe that when you, and 
you alone, see genius, as you think, 
perishing for a little succour, then 
it is your duty to help. You may 
be wrong ; but if you conscientiously 
think that such is the case ; if you 
know that you alone in a life-time 
will see it thus, that with you alone 
rests the desire to give it a helping 
hand, or pass by and let its flickering 
hope sink back for ever into the 


(Mice /Iften 


187 


slough of despond, then I hold this 
is your Heaven-sent mission of be- 
nevolence. The many make the 
souls and bodies of the poor their 
mission of charity. How rare is he 
who goes about to rescue a mind ! 

And Wang was the first Chinaman 
I met. The man whom I was re- 
placing asked me to take him back 
to Chinkiang as boy. I could keep 
him or not as I wished. 




A SHOOTING TRIP ON THE 
GRAND CANAL 





A SHOOTING TRIP ON 
THE GRAND CANAL 

C OME along with that chow , 
boy ! ” 

The table is square, with a 
network of legs that prevent you from 
getting under it ; it is most ingeni- 
ously contrived to collapse at unex- 
pected intervals. We are lighted by 
a bit of reed-pitch dangling out of 
a saucer filled with bean-oil stood 
on an iron candlestick ; the con- 
founded boy had, as usual, forgotten 
the candles. A panel is moved in 
the back of the cabin, and a grimy 
hand passes in the soup. It is 
accompanied by a puff of smoke 
and garlic, which is what you pay 
for a favourable wind. Then we 
suddenly discover there is no salt 
191 


192 B Grip on tbe (Branb Canal 


on the table. The boy is seized, 
and can’t remember if he brought 
it or not ; says he left it to the cook. 
Before we slay him we leave the 
table and search ; lo, in the bottom 
of the basket something wrapped 
in newspaper is grabbed ; with 
trembling we gather round to see it 
opened — it is sugar ! No, the boy 
daubs his tongue over it : “ All right, 
belong salt, master ; belong Chinese 
salt ! ” Saved again. After dinner 
we try a smoke on deck and work 
up an admiration for the silent 
snake winding in white moonlight 
through its high embankments, that 
centuries of digging out have reared 
to the size of hills and cliffs ; then 
we vote it too cold and turn in for 
a game of nap. Directly we get 
round the table one of its legs gets 
pushed to the side where there is no 
floor plank. Everything collapses, 
the light falls to the floor, burns one 
of the pups’ tails, and nearly sets the 
house on fire ; the cards get soaked 
in oil, and the dogs bark and leap 
on to our beds with oily feet. There 


B Grip on tbe (Brand Canal 193 


is only one spot where you are safe 
in a Chinese boat, and that is bed ; 
when we are snugged up we discuss 
the morrow’s arrangements. R. is 
for getting up as usual, eating a 
good breakfast, and getting off lei- 
surely for a good day’s tramp, with 
sandwiches for tiffin. F. says all right, 
only its just as well to come back to 
the boat for tiffin ; all the best shoot- 
ing ’s near the canal, and besides, 
the birds won’t get up in the heat 
of midday. I say I am going to be 
out before sunrise, and get them 
while they are all out feeding in 
the beans and cotton, then I shall 
lie in and read till the evening. 

In the morning I slept on man- 
fully through a lot of clattering of 
boots and yapping of dogs, until I 
smelt the coffee ; then, and then 
only, did I reluctantly yawn forth 
and slip on my coat and boots over 
my pyjamas. Of course those other 
men had been up with the lark 
and bagged half a dozen birds that 
were feeding like tame chicken just 
on the brow of the embankment, 
*3 


194 B Grip on tbe (Branfc Canal 


and had washed and brushed and 
donned dainty spotted shirts and 
knickerbockers. That ’s just like 
pre-arrangements. They reviled 
me for laziness and general filthi- 
ness, and then I showed them how 
to eat breakfast. 

They had scarcely eaten for ten 
minutes before they began to get 
up with their mouths full and don 
cartridge bags and wipe out their 
guns. When I had finished I ate 
an apple or two and got to bed 
again with my pipe, waiting till 
those fellows had made all their 
confusion and got out on deck. I 
then took two cartridges and gave 
my gun to a coolie to carry, to- 
gether with a cartridge bag, only it 
did n’t contain cartridges. It con- 
tained a book, a bottle of cold tea, 
and sandwiches : I was n’t going to 
be tied to those fellows. I stalked 
one beast of a bird — I suppose it 
was a pheasant — that sat pluming 
his wing about a yard off, but he 
ran away. I followed with my gun 
ready to go off, until he rose. 


S {Trip on tbe (Branb Canal 195 


“ Why did n’t you fire ? ” said R. 

“ Why, you fool ! I was waiting 
for the beast to stop, of course ! ” 
I must own I got the idea from 
Punch , but those fellows never read 
papers. 

To tell the truth, I had pulled the 
trigger pretty hard too, only I had 
forgotten to cock the gun, or for 
that matter to insert cartridges. 

After that I let them go, and 
marched round to a village to have 
a chat with the natives ; then I saw 
a lot of fine pigeons on the trees, 
and ordered the gun again. I aimed 
very steadily before the expectant 
crowd, and then pulled both triggers 
at once and knocked the tree down ; 
I believe I even hit the pigeon, for 
I saw a feather floating in the air. 
However, it ’s really too fatiguing 
holding a heavy piece of iron which 
makes a headachy noise when you 
use it, so I just sloped off to a shady 
spot on the canal bank, under three 
high trees at the back of a temple, 
and lay me down. I was not alone 
in my appreciation of the only true 


196 B Cdp on tbc (Srattfc Canal 

way of enjoying sport, for my pup 
and the coolie heartily accorded, 
and lay at length hard by. Here 1 
enjoyed myself making sketches of 
the canal and the boats goose-wing- 
ing up, of the temple and the trees, 
and the coolie and the priest, with 
an occasional read of “ Brer Rabbit,” 
a pull at the tea, and a suck at the 
pipe. I should have lain there all 
day, only about twelve I saw those 
other two sweating back hot and 
weary, so I shadowed them. They 
had both come out in deerstalking 
caps, and had nearly got a sun- 
stroke, besides which not a bird 
had they seen after the first hour. 
The first thing they did was to 
sponge their heads in cold water, 
and then I saw R. make a dive 
down to the bottom of the ice-chest. 
I said nothing, and lay low. Then 
two tumblers were produced ; but 
I said nothing and lay low. Then 
the boy produced cold pheasant and 
sandwiches ; still I lay low. Then 
R. uncorked the fizz and poured 
out, and I quietly stepped in and 


B Crip on tbe <3ranD Canal 197 


took his glass and sandwich, and 
said, “ Thanks, here ’s luck ! ” He 
protested, but I answered, “ No, 
old chap, you don’t play this low 
down game on me. If you go and 
drink that you ’ll have a head- 
ache ! ” 

“ What d’ you mean ? ” says he. 

“ Just wot I sez,” I reply. ( That ’s 
the worst of reading Uncle Remus. 
You lapse back to the primeval purity 
of backwood language.) Then they 
told me what splendid sport they had 
had, and would n’t have come back 
but that they were afraid of running 
out of cartridges. After tiffin I went 
to sleep, while they toiled out again 
in the blazing sun ; then I had tea 
and started out at 4.30. To begin 
with, directly I got to the temple I 
saw a couple of pheasants on the roof 
(a fact ), and potted one in cold blood, 
as it was no use letting them disap- 
pear over the other side. Then I got 
the other side of the mulberry grove 
and sent the dog and coolie in. I 
knew they ’d be there ; they lay in 
the shade during the day, and were 


ig8 21 Grip on tbe (Srattb Canal 


just beginning to wake up from their 
dinner. Out they ran, half a dozen 
of them, till they saw me ; two 
doubled back, and the others got 
up and gave me a right and left. I 
marked the other two into a red 
patch and hunted the grove over 
again, resulting in a fourth. Then I 
got well up to the other end of the 
reeds and put the dog in, and winged 
one as he rose, and the other as he 
flew over the canal. A passing boat 
picked it up and continued on their 
course, so I spattered two successive 
shots just in front of them, and they 
lowered sail and surrendered. Then 
I worked the beans and sunflowers 
down under the Table Hill and add- 
ed two more, which contented me. 
On my way back I hunted up the 
quail that I had put up while after 
the pheasants, and bagged a brace. 
I strutted back as proud as a cock 
pheasant. But I did n’t let on to 
those fellows ; they would have pat- 
ronised me. They brought back 
eleven brace of pheasants, a deer, 
half-a-dozen snipe, and a racoon ! I 


B Grip on tbe ©ratio Canal 199 


lay low and said nothing ! It ’s no 
good going out with a fellow like R. 
I think we hung up fifteen or sixteen 
brace in the stern. So cocky were 
those two fellows that they went 
through the other two quarts of gold 
seal at dinner. 















J.’S LAST HORROR 


201 





J.’S LAST HORROR. 


A SKETCH OF THE PORT DRUNKARD 
AND HIS BOY LOUT. 

1 WAS coming along the deserted 
bund about ten o’clock one night 
(in August), on my way home, 
and walking in the moonlight, when 
from the tree shade along the wall a 
tall, shaky-legged apparition stepped 
out towards me, using a battered old 
tremulous walking-stick to support 
each short, tremulous step. He 
came to a shaky, bent-kneed halt, 
and said — 

“ Hullo, M , old boy, out for a 

stroll ? ” 

It was not, however,, a hearty greet- 
ing — far from it. It was subdued 
and nervous ; it was preliminary to 
203 


204 


3As Xast IfDorror 


something he had on his mind. The 
poor old purple face was bttme, the 
little wrinkle-lost eyes looked fur- 
tively around, and the skinny hand 
on the stick shook. I stopped still 
with a little compunction to hurting 
the poor old fellow’s feelings, al- 
though, hard-hearted with my own 
anxieties as I was growing, I had 
come to consider him an intolerable 
nuisance. So I stopped and said 
irritably — 

“ Hullo, J. ; what ’s the matter 
now ? ” 

He answered in a voice painfully 
assuming the rights of fellowship — 
painfully off-hand, as one who ex- 
pects and means to resist a refusal. 

“ I say, old man, I want you to 
give me a shake-down for to-night, 
if you don’t mind.”( We were always 
“ old ” to each other then, somehow, 
just as schoolboys are “ young.” In- 
solated settlements get into this way ). 

“ All right, old man,” I answered 
to this strange request, pitying him 
through my annoyance. “ I suppose 
I can manage it ; we will stroll along 


3/s Xast Ifoorrot 


205 


together. Something gone wrong with 
the ranche ? ”( his own dwelling ). 

His voice sank, he looked fearfully 
around him, and his knees and hands 
shook. 

“ I dare n’t go near the place, old 
man — my life ’s not safe. They ’re 
hunting me down ! ” 

“ Good heavens, old fellow ! ” I 
exclaimed, facing round. “ What ’s 
up ? What do you mean ? ” 

“ Sh ! Don’t speak so loud ! The 
ruffians are on my track now. Great 
God ! ” ( getting hold of my arm ), 
“ There, is n’t that a shadow there ? ” 
There was some one dodging be- 
hind a tree, a Chinaman, but I reas- 
sured him. 

“ That ’s nothing, old man ; tell us 
all about it. I have n’t heard any- 
thing of this before.” 

“ They ’re hunting me down, I tell 
you,” he said, his voice catching in 
low gasps, and his furtive eye still 
glancing beyond me into the shadow 
of the wall. “ There was that blood- 
thirsty ruffian Bultz — it was this all 
the time ” — and he imitated with 


206 


$.’s Xast horror 


trembling ferocity the sharpening of 
a razor on his sleeve — “ standing in 
the doorway ; and O’Reill — snap, 
snap, snap ! ” His skinny finger 
pulled the trigger of an imaginary 
revolver in the air. “ I tell you it is 
mere chance that I am alive now. 
If that pistol had gone off the ruffians 
would have shot me dead ; as it is he 
snapped it four times. I can’t make 
out how it is, but luckily it missed 
fire. Snap, snap, snap, I tell you,” 
in a subdued shriek, “ and each time 
flashed in the pan. There was a whole 
host of them there — all armed with 
swords and knives and revolvers, and 
dancing round me. The dastardly 
cowards ! They had taken away my 
revolver, or they would n’t have 
dared to face me. I tell you,” bring- 
ing his stick down and shouting, 
“ I ’d fight the whole crowd of them, 
fair play, man to man ! I put my 
hand under the pillow, and when I 
found they had stolen it I just gave 
up quietly, and said, ‘ Here I am, 
you can kill me. You have taken 
away my revolver, and so you are 


3-/S Hast Iborror 


207 


safe, you cowards. Only shoot me 
straight. Put your bullet here.’ I 
bared my breast, and put my finger 
on my heart. ‘You’re welcome to 
shoot me, only wait until I make my 
will and write a line to A. G. Good.’ 
I then made my will and enclosed it 
in a note to A. G. Good, and came 
away.” 

“ When did all this happen, old 
chappie ? ” 

“ Why, just now. I have told you, 
I had just gone to sleep when the 
blookthirsty ruffians broke in with a 
lot of knives and pistols.” 

“ And then you dressed and came 
out here ? ” 

“ I tell you I heard the click of 
the trigger — snap, snap, snap ! And 
with that cowardly, bloodthirsty 
ruffian Bultz sharpening a great long 
knife, and swearing he would have 
my liver ! ” 

“And they went on snapping their 
revolvers while you dressed and 
made out your will ? ” 

“ I tell you there were more of 
them — rifles, guns, swords ! I just 


208 


$.'0 Haet Iborror 


bared my breast and said, ‘ Fire ! I 
am not afraid of you, you cowardly 
ruffians. I am ready ! * and I 
pointed to my chest.” 

“Well, I’m jolly glad some of 
those revolvers flashed in the pan, 
old chap,” I remarked ; “ I don’t 
know what might have happened if 
they had gone off. Let us mooch 
round to your diggings and see that 
they haven’t pulled the house down, 
shall we ? Perhaps they ’ll have 
gone.” 

The fact was I wanted to get him 
to go back to his own place instead 
of mine. But he drew back. 

“ No,” he said. “ It is as much as 
my life ’s worth to go back there 
while those ruffians are lurking 
about.” 

“ Well,” I said, “ I really must 
just go and have a look. I ’ll see if 
I can’t clear them out. You wait 
for me on the bund, here. I ’ll be 
back in a moment.” 

With that I darted down the side- 
alley by Duff’s, for I saw he was 
terrified at being left alone, while I 


3 /s Xast Ifoorror 


209 


was curious to see if there really was 
anything the matter. 

There was no one down-stairs as 
usual. I ran up, and found no one 
but that diminutive little son of the 
Fat Boy’s (in his red breeches and 
J.’s old tail-coat, reaching nearly to 
his heels) crouching timidly in the 
passage. (The Fat Boy was the 
name we gave to J.’s servant — of 
whom more anon.) 

“ Well, little man,” I said, 
“ where ’s your father ? ” 

“ He ’s gone out to look after 
master.” 

“ And what ’s the matter with 
your master ? ” 

The diminutive imp smiled tim- 
idly ; he had not been there long, 
but he had found that was the 
best explanation to give of his mas- 
ter’s condition. Just then the Fat 
Boy came back, panting. Loving 
action rather than words, he went 
to a little coal-locker under the stairs, 
stooped in and drew out something 
wrapped in paper, opened it, and 

handed it to me. It was J.’ s revolver. 

14 


210 


5/0 Xast Iborror 


He simply looked at me with that 
deprecating smile that spoke of so 
much love and sorrow for his master, 
and deprecation of a stranger’s harsh 
judgment. 

“ He is very bad to-night,” he 
said, still panting. (I was an old 
friend of his master’s, although 
during the last year I had begun to 
drop his acquaintance, as he became 
more and more of a nuisance. So I 
was an old confidant of his boy’s — 
the most faithful of Chinese servants, 
big, corpulent, with fat, smiling 
baby face.) “ Oh, to-day, bad ! I 
had to take this away from him ” 
(the revolver). “ He thinks there 
are a lot of people in his room. He 
has been shouting and pointing 
his revolver out of the window at 
passers-by, and at me. He thinks I 
want to kill him — I! ” (with pathetic 
baby smile). “ Then he rushed out 
on to the bund, where he met you, sir. 
I was following him, dodging behind 
the trees. What shall I do, master ? 
what shall I do ? He cannot stay in 
his room without seeing devils and 
shouting and running away.” 


5/0 Xast Iborror 


211 


“ That is all right, my boy ; he is 
coming round to me. You get his 
pyjamas and slippers and go round 
to the Custom House and tell my 
boy to rig up a bed. We ’ll get him 
all right.” 

“ Thank you, master.” 

I was more gratified by that 
honest fellow’s thanks than the 
service justified. It was no act of 
friendship for the master. Long 
and useless forbearance had worn 
out what pity I had for him ; and 
as done for the servant, it was too 
little to put against the long and 
patient suffering that that true friend 
and nurse had felt vicariously for 
every sign of disgust and weariness 
displayed towards his charge. For 
J. was nothing else than his charge. 
The honest fellow loved and watched 
over the poor drunkard with the 
tenderness of a nurse for its found- 
ling ; and every slight that passed 
unnoticed over the dulled sensitive- 
ness of the master found a billet in 
and wounded the tender, simple 
heart of the boy. 

I hastened back and found J. 


212 


Uaet Iborror 


quaking, and doing his best to hide 
his fear. He quickly came towards 
me and linked his arm in mine. 

“ Oh, here you are, old chap,” 
he greeted me, with a ghastly at- 
tempt at ease ; “ I was waiting for 
you.” 

“ All right, old fellow, come along. 
They ’ve cleared out of the ranche 
now, and nothing touched ; only 
you may just as well come along and 
put up with me. I ’ve told the 
Lout.” 

The Lout was J.’s name for his 
boy. 

We mounted to my room, and J. 
seemed momentarily more at his 
ease. Still, he did not sit down, 
but while pretending to examine 
my curios fidgeted about as though 
looking for something. 

“ Won’t you sit down, old man ? ” 

He sat down, and presently said, 
offhandedly, “You don’t happen 
to have a drop of whiskey knocking 
about the place, old man ? ” 

I scented mischief. I said I 
would go and look for some, and 


3^6 Xast Ifoorror 


213 


went out and told my boy to hide up 
all the drinks and say there was 
none. Then I came back and called 
out to the boy, “ Get some whiskey, 
boy.” 

“No have got, sir ; yesterday all 
finish.” 

“ All finish ? Why, there must be 
some somewhere.” 

“ All finish,” he repeated stolidly. 

“ I ’m sorry, old man,” I said, 
turning to J., “ I ’m run out of it ; 
have something else ? Have a little 
claret and soda ? ” 

I caught a baleful gleam of suspi- 
cion in his eye, quickly suppressed. 

“ Oh, have n’t you got any whis- 
key ? ” he said coldly ; “ well, give 
me a glass of water, my boy.” 

The boy brought him a glass of 
water ; it was curious to watch the 
sly Celestial curiosity mingled with 
contempt with which he watched 
this phenomenon while he waited 
for the glass. Perfectly grave all 
the while to the outward eye, he 
understood the situation well, and of 
old. 


214 


37s Hast Iborror 


The next thing was to rig up a 
bed for J. We took the sofa out on 
to the balcony ; I said it would be 
cooler for him. The real reason was 
that there would be less chance of 
his breaking anything if he com- 
menced fighting his imaginary ene- 
mies during the night. 

“Well, old fellow,” I said, “there 
you are. Curl up and make your- 
self as comfortable as you can. You 
won’t be disturbed here.” 

He did n’t seem quite satisfied 
yet. 

“ Thanks, old fellow, it ’s awfully 
kind of you ; b — b — you ’ve got an 
awful lot of doors in this place,” 
looking uneasily at the glass folding- 
doors that opened into the dark 
storeroom. 

“Well, never mind that. J. I’ll 
shut ’em all. Besides, my dogs are 
sleeping outside, and they are sure 
to go for them — or any one else that ’s 
about, for that matter.” 

This I said to keep him from 
wandering, for he had a wholesome 
hatred of my dogs. 


5 .'s ILast Iborror 


215 


“ Th-anks, th-anks. I know it ’s 
quite safe. Still, I ’d be glad if 
you ’d — if, in fact, you ’d just give 
me some sort of weapon. You know 
the ruffians stole my revolver, and I 
don’t feel safe ; I don’t feel safe, old 
man ! ” 

There was something uncanny in 
his sober recognition of how the 
case appeared to me with his own 
ill-concealed but very real fear of 
these imaginary demons. His whole 
conduct was full of that terrific 
method in madness so hard to cope 
with. I brought him a big club of 
mine. 

“ There, old fellow,” I said, “ put 
that by your side. I ’ll guarantee 
that if you give them a tap with that 
they won’t trouble you again.” 

He took it and said thanks, but 
still seemed doubtful. I got him to 
undress and lie down, and then 
retired to my own bedroom, leaving 
the door open. 

He was a nuisance. I regretted 
having put myself out to please his 
boy. Why should I take upon 


2l6 


3-/6 last Iborror 


myself to soften the lot of others ? 
No one ever did it to me. Every 
one had to bear their own burdens. 
I was falling off into a troubled 
slumber when I heard J.’s voice just 
outside my mosquito-curtain saying, 
“ M .” 

I jumped up and saw the skinny 
old form standing there with the 
stick. So I was open to this sort 
of thing, was I ? To have this 
madman creeping in on me like 
this ? 

“ Well, what the do you want 

now, old man ? ” I asked, coming out 
of my mosquito-frame. “ I tell you 
you ’re all right there. Why don’t 
you go to sleep ? ” 

He had all along a nasty furtive 
way of avoiding my eyes. 

“ I don’t feel safe, old man ! They 
may come in at any of those doors 
— you ’ve got such a confounded lot 
of doors ! — This stick — it ’s very kind 
of you, old man — but if you had a 
pistol to lend me — they have stolen 
my revolver- ” 

“Well, take that pistol up on 


5.'s Xast Iborror 


217 


the wall there,” I said, pointing to 
a saloon pistol hanging under my 
guns. 

“ That ’s no good, it ’s not loaded,” 
with a gleam of furtive suspicion and 
anger. 

“ All right, then, I ’ll give you a 
loaded one, and I hope that will 
keep you quiet, for I want to go to 
sleep.” 

I then went to my writing-table 
and took out one of my pocket der- 
ringers, thrusting the few loose car- 
tridges far back under the papers. I 
then went through a rapid process of 
opening and snapping the breech, 
and handed it to him. 

“ There, that ’s loaded and 
cocked,” I said. “ Be careful how 
you use it. It goes off deuced easy, 
so be careful you don’t shoot your- 
self by mistake.” 

I trusted to the threat and the 
peculiar way of side-opening to 
prevent him discovering that it 
was unloaded. Then I went back 
to bed, this time shutting the door 
so that he should not creep in on 


2l8 


3-/0 Xast Iborror. 


me again. I fell into a heavy slum- 
ber. 

I sat up and listened ; crash 
again. There was something up 
in the next room. I jumped out 
of bed, picked up a light cane, and 
opened the door. This was what I 
saw. 

The hanging lamp was still burn- 
ing, turned low. Under it, in the 
middle of the room, stood J. in his 
loose pyjamas and bare, red feet, 
with a stick in his hand ; a skinny, 
menacing form, crouching there 
under the lamp, like a terrified but 
dangerous animal, the purple, 
bloated face and skinny neck craned 
forward, with bloodshot little eyes 
glaring fearfully towards some ob- 
ject in the corner. The would-be 
threatening hand shook so that 
the stick rattled on the bare floor. 
There he stood, crouching and 
glaring and muttering. He took 
no notice of my entrance : his eyes 
were still riveted on the corner. I 
looked ; there on the round table 


3-/6 Hast Iborror 


219 


lay the remnants of a big blue vase, 
lately bought after weeks of nego- 
tiation, and dear ; he had smashed 
it to atoms. 

“ Come on, then, you murderous 
ruffians ; come on ! You’ve stolen 
my revolver, but the old dog ’s got 
fight in him yet. Come on ! ” 

“ That ’s right, old fellow,” I said. 
“ Lick into them ! Let them have it ! ” 

Slowly he moved his head and 
unrecognising eyes round to me ; 
and then, after a moment’s stare, sud- 
denly jumped back a pace, resuming 
the crouch and craning neck and 
shaking stick, terrified yet menacing. 

“You cowards! You blood- 
thirsty cowards ! You are afraid 
to meet me fairly, one by one ! 
Stand back ! ” he shrieked ; “ stand 
back, or, by God, I ’ll fire ! ” And 
he slowly raised the other hand. It 
held the derringer. 

“ Fire away, old chap,” I said, 
laughing. “ You ’re a match for the 
whole crowd of them with that re- 
volver ! ” 

A blinding flash in my eyes, and 


220 


3-.’s Hast Iborrot 


a deafening roar in my ears, and the 
sound of shivered glass falling on the 
floor behind me ! . . . After a few 
seconds I took my hands from my 
face, and as my sight gradually 
steadied itself I saw J. with his back 
turned to me bending over a small 
table. Picking up my cane, which 
I had let fall when the pistol went 
off, I stepped up and looked over 
his shoulder. He had two or three 
cartridges on that table, and was 
trying to fumble one into the breech. 
His hand trembled so that each 
time he missed the hole and dropped 
it on to the table. I gave him a 
smart tap on the wrist with my stick ; 
he dropped the pistol and jumped 
forward with a howl, upsetting the 
table and falling over it. When he 
picked himself up he gave a short, 
forced laugh, saying — 

“ Hullo, M , old chap, is that 

you ? I was just trying to load this 
pistol you gave me ; you forgot to 
put a cartridge in, so I just — just 
looked in your drawer for one ; hope 
you don’t mind ? ” 


3-ds Xast Iborror 


221 


“ What, have you been having any 
more trouble with those fellows, old 
man ? ” 

“ N — no, no ; only I thought it 
best to be on the safe side in case 
they should attack me — ha, ha ! ” 

I was horrified at this maniacal 
cunning and duplicity ; there was 
something vindictive and dangerous 
gleaming in his furtive eye that be- 
lied this apparent unconsciousness. 
However, thinking that kindness was 
the best way of dealing with him, I 
took him by the arm, saying — 

“ Well, come along back to bed, old 
fellow, and leave the pistol there ; I ’ll 
see that they don’t attack you again.” 

He accompanied me for a pace, 
and then of a sudden a skinny hand 
was about my throat. 

“ You damned sneaking cad, you ’re 
one of them ! You hid the whiskey 
and you hid the cartridges, but you 
don’t get round this child ! N — no ; 
too old a bird for that sort of game, 
you know, by a long chalk ! ” 

He dropped his hand as suddenly 
and took my arm. 


222 


$.*e Xast Iborror 


“You must excuse me, old chap, 
if my language is not exactly par- 
liamentary, ha, ha ! I ’m not well, 
you know ! I ’m not well ! ” 

I said nothing but led him to the 
balcony, determining to tie him to 
the bed, for it seemed the only way 
of keeping him out of harm if I was 
not to watch over him the whole 
night myself. For that purpose, 
as soon as he had laid down, I 
turned my back to him, in order to 
tear up a common muslin sheet, to 
make bands when of a sudden I felt 
a scorching pain behind. I swung 
round and found that the maniac 
had taken the candle which stood 
by his bed and applied it to my 
clothes. I tore off the loose cotton 
jacket and flung it, blazing, into the 
corner ; fortunately the balcony was 
quite bare of furniture and there 
was no wind, so I was able to let it 
consume itself without danger. I 
then pounced on him and held him 
down with my foot on his chest — 
poor old fellow, he was as weak 
as a kitten— while I bound the long 


5 .'s Uast Iborror 


223 


bands right around his body and the 
bed. 

“Now get fooling about,” I said, 
not a little viciously, as you may im- 
agine. 

“ All right, if you are going to treat 
a guest in your own house in this 
way, it ’s deuced like a gentleman, 
that ’s all I can say,” he said sulkily. 

I returned to the sitting room. 
The first thing that met my eye was 
a pistol lying on the floor with the 
breech open, and the cartridges 
scattered about ; the next, the pic- 
ture over my bedroom door with 
the glass smashed and a hole in it. 
But for the fact that these pocket 
derringers kick violently, and require 
a strong, steady hand, that hole 
would be in my forehead. This 
was a pleasant sort of guest to enter- 
tain. And there lay my precious blue 
vase. Well, well ; poor old fellow ! 

I was too sleepy to moralise. 

The next morning I was sipping 
my tea in bed when the boy entered 
with a lot of bottles under his arm. 


224 


3Vs Hast Iborror 


He banged them down on to the 
table, pushing my tea to one side. 

“ Don’t, boy,” I said, trying feebly 
to pull my cup to the front again. 
“ Don’t come worrying me with your 
empty bottles and domestic accounts 
at this time of day.” - It was in fact 
the only enjoyable hour of the day 
to me out there. I thought he was 
coming to prove by bottle that he 
was justified in ordering some more 
beer or wine ; for I generally ac- 
cused him of theft when he came to 
say the dozen was finished — about 
the most foolish thing one can do 
with servants. 

He planted them down and looked 
at me ; and his look said, “ Now who 
was right — you or I ? ” But I could 
not at the moment recollect to 
what earthly subject such a trium- 
phant reproach could refer. So I 
simply said, testily — 

“Well, what is it, boy ? Do be 
quick about your confounded mys- 
tifications.” 

“ Look at those bottles, master,” 
was all he deigned to reply. 


3/0 Haet Iborror 


225 


“ Yes, yes, I see,” I said, turning 
them round. “ Whiskey, brandy, 
cara£oa. Now you are not going to 
tell me these are finished. There 
was at least half a bottle of whiskey 
the other night, the brandy I only 

opened on Sunday for Mr. , and 

I know the stone bottle has been on 
the sideboard a long time but no 
one ever touches it except for an 
occasional cocktail. If you fellows 
have been taking advantage of the 
stone, I ’ll fine every one of you all 
round and start waxing up the bottle 
every day like Mr. Shirt. Take them 
away, boy ; take them away.” 

The boy listened to this tirade 
with unmoved face, unless it were a 
suspicion of pitying sarcasm in the 
black eyes. He took them, one by 
one, and turned them up to show 
that they were empty. Then he 
pointed his finger towards the next 
room. 

“Great heavens,” I said, sitting 
up, “you don’t mean to say that 
Mr. J. ? ” 

“Yes,” answered my boy hotly — 
15 


226 


‘Hast Iborror 


he had always strongly discoun- 
tenanced my encouragement of the 
poor old drunkard ; “ last night me 
puttee inside cupboard, mess-room, 
lock door, take away key, all same 
you say ; this morning, I go look 
see — door open, all finish ! You can 
askee Ni-ta ! ” 

And Nita, the mess-room coolie, 
who had probably been retained 
waiting at the door to give evidence, 
came in with a grin on his monkey- 
ish features, and stood just outside 
the sacred precincts of my drawn- 
back, mosquito-curtains, and said 
nothing, which might be taken as 
corroboration. “ Send that grin- 
ning idiot away, boy,” I said, “and 
take away these bottles too ; I don’t 
care what he drinks. You ought 
to have been more careful.” 

“ Don’t say we stole it, that ’s all,” 
retaliated the boy hotly ; then 
stolidly gathered up the bottles and 
withdrew. 

When I was dressed and went 
into the next room I found J. 
standing at the mantelpiece and 


5 .'s Xast Iborror 


227 


looking at my chin aware (which 
made me tremble), dressed, and ap- 
parently in his right mind. 

“ Good morning, M ,” in a 

cold, fashionable tone. 

“ Good morning, J. I ’m afraid 
I Ve kept you waiting for your 
breakfast.” 

“ Not at all, not at all. I ’m a 
very poor breakfast eater.” 

“ Well, come and keep me com- 
pany over a cup of tea at least,” 
said I, leading the way into the 
mess-room. He followed leisurely 
with a slightly offended air. What 
characterised him throughout this 
episode was either a restlessness or 
offended dignity which kept him 
standing as if looking for something 
instead of sitting sociably down. 

“ Well, how did you sleep old 
man ? ” 

“ Oh, thanks, all right. That is 
to say, as well as one could expect 
in this weather,” coldly. 

“ Not disturbed ? ” 

“ N — no, thanks.” 

“ Let ’s have it out, old man. 


228 


5.'s Ua6t Iborror 


Last night you said there were some 
fellows hunting round after your 
liver, with daggers and that sort of 
thing. Have they knocked off ? ” 

“ Oh, I shall put a stop to their 
pranks to-day,” coldly. “ I shall go ' 
to the Consul and claim the restitu- 
tion of my revolver. I shall state 
the facts of the case quite calmly. 
But I shall insist on having my 
property returned before I can dis- 
cuss the question of an apology. 
Then, if they like to bind themselves 
over in proper cognisances to keep 
the peace, I may perhaps forego 
further prosecution. Otherwise,” 
warming up, “ I shall most certainly 
prosecute. You know, I can put 
up with a great deal ; but I refuse, 

I simply refuse, to go about with 
my life in danger. It is simply un- 
heard of. It would not be tolerated 
in any civilised country, and by 
God it shall not be tolerated here ! ” 
Calming down, “ You were kind 
enough, old fellow, to give me a 
shakedown in your diggings here 


3-/6 Xaet Iborror 


229 


last night, and you see I could n’t do 
anything else ; it was as much as my 
life was worth to return to my own 
place, as those ruffians had simply 
taken possession. But they, they 

hunted me out here. They ” 

“ What, you don’t mean to say 
they attacked you — they attacked 
you here in my quarters ? ” 

“ No, no, old man. The cowardly 
ruffians were afraid to attack me in 
another man’s house, but I heard 
them out in the garden under my 
window — I wonder how they found 
out I was here ? ” 

“ Come, old fellow, they could n’t 
have got in without the gate-keeper 
seeing them ; and I asked him this 

morning, and he swears ” 

Snappishly. “ Now look here, 
old fellow. Of course, if you ’re 
going to tell me that I am telling a 
lie, or that I don’t know a thing 
when I hear it, why, then I ’ve got 
nothing to say, except that I should 
call it, to put a mild term on it, 
deuced bad taste ; that ’s all. I tell 


230 


5/s Xast Iborror 


you I heard the bloodthirsty cowards 
talking under that balcony window 
last night just as plainly as I 
hear you now. O’Reill said, ‘ He ’s 
up there, where that light is ; * and 
that murdering villain Bultz said, 

‘ I ’ll have his liver ! I ’ll have his 
liver ! ’ And sharpening a big 
knife backwards and forwards, like 
this, all the time. You know it ’s 
getting beyond a joke when a fellow 
has to go in peril of his life. I ’m 
not a coward — I think you know 
that, old chap ; but I ’m not as active 
as I used to be, and I ’m no match, 
unarmed, against a dozen powerful 
ruffians like that armed with knives 
and revolvers. ‘ I ’ll have his liver ! ’ 
those were his very words ; and 
when it comes to that it ’s getting 
beyond a joke, you know. What 
would you advise me to do, old 
chap ? ” 

So he had still got them ; and 
with all this sober, open-to-argu- 
ment reasonableness too ; after 
trying to murder me and drinking 
more than half a bottle each of 


3Ts Hast Iborroi* 


231 


brandy, whiskey, and liqueur on 
the sly ! 

It was appalling. 

I considered that in this case 
argument only tended to strengthen 
his conviction ; and so, pitying him 
though I did, I made fun of him. 
Towards the end of breakfast the 
doctor came in for a cup of tea, and 
asked J. in the usual jocular way — 

“ How goes it, J. ? ” 

“ All right, thanks,” suspiciously. 
When they get it this way they sus- 
pect every one of disbelieving them 
— in other words, of insulting them. 

“ J. was putting up with me last 
night,” I said. “ Got hunted out 
of his own quarters by a pack of 
murderers. Narrow escape ; serious 
danger.” 

“ What ’s that ? What ’s this, J. ? 
Tell us about it. I ’ve not heard a 
word of this. When did it happen ? ” 

“Yes, it’s too bad, you know,” 
said J. “ It ’s getting beyond a 
joke when a fellow sees a couple of 
ruffians standing over his bed with 
drawn knives and revolvers, swear- 


232 


3?g 3Last Iborror 


ing they ’ll have his liver. Snap, 
snap : I tell it was just touch and 
go, or I should n’t be alive to tell the 
tale now. 1 Just give me time,’ I 
said, ‘ to make my will and write a 
line to A. J. Good, and then you 
can wreak your bloody will. I am 
defenceless ; you have stolen my 
revolver. I tell you, doctor, old 
man, it ’s got beyond a joke. I ’ve 
had about enough of it.” 

The doctor looked puzzled. 

“ Why, when was this ? Who ? 
What ? ” 

“ Oh, well,” offendedly, “ of course 
if you doubt my word I ’ve nothing 
more to say, except that if you 
mean to be polite, you ’re having 
deuced poor luck, that ’s all.” 

Poor old fellow ! The quaint turns 
of speech that used to be genuine 
humour in happier days, with their 
accompaniments of winks and head- 
waggings, were tragic now. We 
did n’t like to laugh. 

“ Why, I ’m not doubting your 
word, J., for a minute ; only you ’ve 
rushed in medias res before I ’ve 


5/0 Xast horror 


233 


quite hooked into the beginning. 

What was it, M ? How did it 

begin ? ” 

“ Why, he ’s told you,” I answered, 
solemnly. “ Hunted out of house 
and home. Pursued by brigands. 
Narrowest shave in the world. 
Pistol snapped in the pan.” 

The doctor now perceived that 
there was a joke somewhere and 
enjoyed it hugely. Whispering to 
him not to enlighten any one, I went 
down to the office. The poor old 
fellow came down too shortly after 
with the same circumstantial story 
to the Commissioner and other As- 
sistants, and then went on to the 
Consulate to have his pursuers 
bound over to keep the peace. 
Every one was hoaxed at first, es- 
pecially as by repetition he had found 
a few new touches of verisimili- 
tude ; then they began to “ tumble 
to the joke,” in the language of the 
poor old fellow’s facetious days. 
The club at the twelve o’clock 
cocktail was convulsed over the 
recital ; the famous joke of the 


234 


5/s Ua 0 t Iborror 


morning was to put up a finger and 
say, snap, snap, snap ; or seriously 
sharpen an imaginary knife on the 
sleeve. The humorous, sensitive, 
generous, simple-minded gentleman, 
fallen by stages during the last 
twenty years before their eyes to 
the character of the village drunk- 
ard was dead-beat, a nuisance, an 
eyesore, was considered a fit butt 
for ridicule with his “ horrors.” A 
few spoke words of momentary 
pity ; none felt it. He was an in- 
tolerable nuisance. We had pitied 
him so often. He was a disgrace 
to the port ; a danger to every one 
who went near him, if he got pos- 
session of his revolver again. A 
good riddance if he was to go off 
his hook ; the best thing that could 
happen to him. J. die? Hadn’t 
he been going to die every summer 
for the last Heaven knows how' 
many years ? It is always those 
fellows who never die. 

I went back and found J. sitting 
in my room, which irritated me. I 


3.'s Xast Iborror 


235 


hoped to have got rid of him. He 
got up and moved about, fingering 
things. I sat down to tiffin, which 
was spread on the table for me. 

“You will excuse me beginning, 
old man,” I said coldly. “ I have 
to get down to the office by one.” 
The boy brought the soup and I 
began, showing plainly in my face 
the annoyance I felt at his presence 
in my room. 

Then he said, in that now com- 
mon tone of wounded pride and 
self-assertion — 

“ You have n’t got a bit of tiffin to 
give me, have you ? ” 

I could not have offered a greater 
insult than what I was doing. I 
felt myself a brute. But still I 
hardened myself ; what was the 
good of showing common politeness 
to him ? He would only sponge on 
me the more. 

“ I suppose so. If you are not 
going back to your own diggings I 
daresay the boy can put something 
up. Sit down. Boy, get some tiffin 
for Mr. J.” 


236 


3 /s Xaet Iborror 


The boy looked daggers, then 
stolid, and said there was nothing in 
the house. 

“ Oh, don’t trouble,” said J., haugh- 
tily, and deeply hurt, but determined 
to assert his rights to fellowship by 
staying, and prompted doubtless, I 
sorrow to think of it, by a genuine 
dread of leaving this asylum from the 
terrors of his imagination. “ I never 
eat anything ; I only go through the 
form of eating.” 

My conscience smote me. I felt 
ashamed of my coarseness. Recol- 
lecting his predilections I thought 
to repair my rudeness by giving 
him the only thing he cared for. J. 
only took soup ; but then his boy 
made excellent soup — a sort of 
stock pot. 

“ Open a tin of hotch-potch,” I 
said to the boy. 

“ There is n’t any,” he replied, 
simply following my original lead. 

“ Then get some,” I retorted 
angrily, turning round and venting 
my self-shame in abuse on the one 
man who endeavoured to guard my 


$.'s Hast Iborror 


23*7 


interests. “ Get some, and mind 
your manners a little better towards 
my guests ! ” 

With a look of disgust he went 
into the store-room and found that 
there actually was none ; no tinned 
stuff of any sort. I gave up the 
effort to treat poor J. considerately. 
He was given a plate of my own 
pretence of a soup, and a watered 
second edition at that. He put a 
spoonful to his mouth and unosten- 
tatiously, but with suppressed dis- 
gust, pushed the plate away from 
him. 

“I am just going into the spare 
room for a bit,” he said ; “ I can’t 
go back to my own quarters just 
now, as there is a man waiting to 
murder me.” 

Poor fellow ! 

When I had finished I lighted 
my cigar and strolled over to the 
empty room opposite my door to 
give J. a friendly word before I . 
went down to the office. There 
were quarters for two Assistants 
over the Custom House, separated 


238 


5/6 Hast Iborror 


by the common mess-room. One 
side was at present unoccupied, save 
by a bed and a table left behind. 

I paused in the mess-room and 
listened. From the half-open door 
of the vacant room came a quaver- 
ing, cracked, old voice that I posi- 
tively could not have recognised, 
singing— 

‘ ‘ Then wh-y did you l-eave and forsa-ake 
me ? ” 

‘ ‘ Then wh-y did you l-eave and forsa-ake 
me ? ” 

It was a line from the song “ Queen 
of my Heart,” or the tune was, 
anyhow — a melancholy, plaintive 
refrain ; but the quavering, cracked 
old voice did not go on with tune, 
but was crooning the same melan- 
choly line over and over again, the 
same, in the same slow, melancholy, 
quavering croon. I gently pushed 
the door open. 

J. took no notice of my entry. 
He was half sitting on an upturned 
empty packing-case in the middle 
of the bare white-floored room. On 


5 /s Ua 6 t Iborror 


239 


a chair in front of him (he was half 
facing the door in which I stood 
looking at him) was an open book, 
upside down, to represent a piece 
of music. His battered old oak 
stick was in his right hand. He 
was moving it slowly and shakily 
up and down his left elbow, like 
the bow of a violin. His head was 
perched on one side, squinting at 
the open book — nodding slowly to 
his song. And he was singing this 
melancholy, unfinished refrain to 
himself. 

Anything more lonely and deso- 
late than that gaunt, angular figure 
in the middle of that big bare room, 
with its head perched on one side, 
the big purple nose, the quavering 
song, and the vacant eye — anything 
more desolate, more miserable, more 
heartrending I have never seen. And 
to make the desolation more fearful, a 
gleam of sunshine shot through the 
balcony window, and a derelict strip 
of muslin curtain fluttered gaily in a 
little puff of cool breeze. 

Unspeakably saddened, my eye 


240 


3T6 Xast Iborror 


moved beyond him. Motionless, in 
one of the alcoved French windows, 
behind him stood the Fat Boy. He 
was smiling. 

The Fat Boy was smiling — the 
big, baby smile. Only one ac- 
quainted with him would have seen 
the pathos of that smile. Only one 
acquainted with him would have seen 
in it the agony of a simple, faithful 
nature torn to the heart. It was no 
smile. It was the contortion of un- 
uttered sobs. 

The Fat Boy was watching over 
his master — and waiting. 

I gave him a look of voiceless 
sympathy and went out, gently clos- 
ing the door behind me. The mourn- 
ful, desolate refrain and the cracked, 
pathetic voice, followed me quaver- 
ingly down the staircase. I was 
touched. Something must be done. 
I would get the fellows together 
directly after office, and arrange to 
treat him kindly, and make him happy 
and comfortable. 


When I came up at four he was 


5/s Hast Iborror 


241 


dead. The Fat Boy had laid him 
on the sheetless spare bed and was 
kneeling by his side with his head 
buried in his master’s clammy hand, 
sobbing. When I came in he got up 
and stood at attention, and smiled. 
I took his hand in both of mine and 
bowed my head. 

“ Going to J.’s funeral ? Beastly 
nuisance, is n’t it ? Still, ’spose one 
ought just to put in an appearance, 
though he was such a confounded 
old drunkard. Who ’d ever thought 
of his going off ? Ha, ha ! That 
dose of the horrors was about the 
best thing I ’ve heard for a month 
or two. ’Pletely took me in’t first 
— ’pon my oath it did ! The old 
scamp ! ” 

“ By the by, have you heard 
what ’s become of that coolie of his ? 
Deuced economic chap, so they say, 
and don’t squeeze. You ’re a sort of 
chap that knows where to put your 
fingers on these fellows : send him 
round and I ’ll give him a trial at 
four dollars a month. Ought to be 

16 


242 


3-ds Hast Iborror 


able to get ’im cheap now he ’s out of 
work, eh ? Soon lick ’im into shape 
— make a good shooting coolie.” 

A member of a certain English 
mission refused to bury J. because, 
I believe, he had died in his sin ; 
so we got an American Baptist to 
read the service, and had him 
lowered into the sod. There was 
a talk of getting up a subscription 
for a tombstone, but I don’t know 
whether it came to anything. He 
was the oldest resident in the place, 
always a gentleman, always clean 
and neatly dressed, and was supposed 
to have a little income of his own ; 
but then, you see, when they came 
to examine his effects they found he 
was a pauper and possessed just a 
few well-brushed old suits and well- 
washed old shirts, and that his boy 
had fed and furnished him, unre- 
munerated, for a long time past, so 
the project of a memorial stone was 
dropped. He has dropped into his 
nameless grave, and in a week was 
utterly forgotten by those who had 
met him daily for twenty years. 


3 Ts Xast Iborroc 


243 


Only one man remembers him. 

I sometimes pass the Fat Boy on 
his way to the market, and he 
greets me with a smile. He has 
not taken service with foreigners 
again, but lives with his family in 
a mud hut at the foot of the camp 
hill. Can it be he who puts the 
little heathen propitiatory paper by 
the tombless grave ? 

Postscript. — To round off this 
study I append a copy of the actual 
complaints written out by poor J. 
The original should still be in the 
archives of the British Consulate at 
Chinkiang. 

“ The following are the facts of a 
cowardly attack made upon the 
writer on the evening of the nth 
inst. The writer herein mentioned 
was called the most violent names 
and threatened with life. Sure 
enough in the evening the villains 
herein mentioned made their ap- 
pearance ; with rifle and knives, 
intent upon taking life. And of 


244 


3 Vs Hast Iborror 


this fact Messrs. M and C. were 

aware ; and saying for God’s sake 
don’t take life the villain Bultz we 
are going to finish him and his 
companion shouted go you work 
the rifle and I ’ll knife him, having 
no assistance at my command ; and 
moreover unarmed I had no option 
but to place myself at their mercy 
frequent cries from outside were 
heard saying don’t take life the 
man has done you no harm. Bultz 

replied oh we ’ll fix him the ! 

Very fortunately some assistance 
came and my life was spared for 
that evening, however, I was still 
hounded about by the man Bultz, 
who still persisted that he would 
have my liver ; this cheering infor- 
mation was given to me on the 
morning of the 12th inst. Where- 
ever and whenever I met the man 
Bultz I was assailed with the most 
powerful not to say unprovoked 

language last evening the man 

Bultz was sitting on my wall in 
disguise, clearly waiting his time 
for using his cowardly weapon. 


Hast Iborror 


245 


having no arms of my own in the 
house, and with the man Bultz 
already within the boundary, I 
deemed it advisable to leave, and 
went to the house of a friend where 
I tarried for a night. I may here 
mention that an eminent member 
of the community took an active 
part in the attempt upon my life 
namely Geo. Moth at whose insti- 
gation time and court will tell. 
This gentleman remarked on several 
occasions shoot him.” 

Here it ceases. I suppose the 
rage at this last idea rendered 
further writing impossible : Geo. 
Moth was the harmless clerk of a 
gentleman who had formerly em- 
ployed J., and afterwards “ turned 
him out of house and home,” as the 
poor old fellow would say. 

Was ever more pathetic docu- 
ment published than this ? more 
psychologically curious ? Its genu- 
ineness is written on its face ; no 
need to say that I should not have 
the ability to compose it. It was 


246 


5/s Hast Iborror 


perhaps cruel of me to urge him to 
write out his complaint and then to 
copy it ; but it can do him no harm 
now ; it seemed to us then only 
a trifling accentuation of what we 
had come to consider almost his 
normal state. He had been our 
butt so long ! 

And this time he died. 


THE END. 


THE AUTONYM LIBRARY. 


Small works by representative writers, 
whose contributions will bear their signa- 
tures. 

32mo, limp cloth, each 50 cents. 

The Autonym Library is published in 
co-operation with Mr. T. Fisher Unwin, of 
London. 

I. The Upper Berth, by F. Marion Craw- 

ford. 

II. By Reef and Palm, by Louis Becke. 

With Introduction by the Earl of Pem- 
broke. 

This will be followed by volumes, by S. R. 
Crockett, and others. 






















































































































































































































































































